


Fairness Before Factions

by RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Divergent AU, I don't know what else to tag, Initiation, Modern Era, Multi, Violence, enjolrasPOV, sorry the title is so lame I couldn't think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow/pseuds/RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I notice the bodies in the cars in front of us start flying out the windows, across a sizeable gap and landing on a rooftop.<br/>‘I think this is our stop,’ I say.</p><p>All Enjolras and Combeferre have to do is get through Dauntless initiation. Then they can get to work on The Plan.<br/>It get's more complicated when they make friends with most of their competition. And let's not even mention the fact that Enjolras has taken an unnaturally keen interest in their cynical instructor.<br/>Overthrowing the faction system was supposed to be easier than this...</p><p>*<br/>Just as a side note even though this is a Divergent AU I've tried to make it so that even if you haven't read the books or seen the movie you'll still understand. I hope. This takes place the year after Four joins Dauntless and ignores the storyline of the books pretty much entirely.<br/>(I'm so embarrassingly bad at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I let my blood spill onto the coals smouldering at the base of the bowl. I don’t lift my eyes once I’ve chosen; I know I will see disappointment in my father’s eyes, but that’s nothing new. I direct my feet towards the mass of black I know to be the Dauntless and raise my eyes only once I’m there to nod at Combeferre, who returns the gesture. He’s pale but otherwise looks calm. I glance down at the cut in my palm as I wait for the rest of the 16 year olds to make their choice. It’s a long cut but it’s not deep and dried blood has already stopped the bleeding. Finally, the ceremony ends and everyone begins to file out.

The storm of footsteps turns to thunder as the Dauntless around me begin to run. I glance at Combeferre who shrugs and suddenly we are running too. Down the stairs, out the door and towards the train – but I am ready for this. I don’t hesitate as I sprint beside one of the carriages and launch myself through the opening. I hear Combeferre land behind me with a grunt.

We’re joined in our carriage by another a few seconds later. A boy all in grey- Abnegation. I stare in surprise for a moment- Dauntless is an uncommon choice for someone from Abnegation- but my attention is drawn by another body flying in through the opening, though this one doesn’t entirely make it in. His knuckles turn white as he grips the handle at the opening to the carriage and his feet kick around gracelessly, trying to make contact with the carriage floor. Before I’ve even registered all of this the Abnegation boy has moved forward to grab him and seconds later he has pulled both of them back into the carriage. They collapse on to the floor, the new comer (dressed in Amity yellow, another rare Dauntless transfer) gasping for breath.

‘Are you ok?’ asks the Abnegation boy, placing a hand on the other boy’s arm. The gesture is kind and gentle and I can’t help but wonder how long he will last in the Dauntless initiation.

‘Thank you, I’m fine. My jump was just a little clumsy,’ comes the mumbled reply. I feel Combeferre relax beside me at the answer and feel a pang of guilt at my lack of concern for the Amity boy. He turns to sit against one of the walls as he catches his breath. He has a cheerful face: a slight upturn of the lips, despite recovering from what could have turned into a near death experience, and bright, innocent eyes. His head is completely bald and I wonder whether he shaved in order to fit in with his new chosen faction.

The Abnegation boy watches him with concern for a few more moments before apparently deciding he really is fine. He too sits, though he does not lean against any of the walls but glances at the grimy metal of the carriage with apparent distaste. It’s a strange look for an Abnegation and I wonder again at the strangeness of his choosing Dauntless. He catches me staring and smiles shyly.

‘I guess we’re headed to the Dauntless headquarters then,’ the Amity boy says conversationally. I nod. ‘I’m Bossuet,’ he says smiling, obviously willing to keep up some conversation.

‘It’s nice to meet you Bossuet. I’m Joly,’ says the Abnegation boy. They turn to us with expectant smiles and I hold in a frustrated sigh. With difficulty.

‘I’m Combeferre and this is Enjolras,’ ‘Ferre replies indicating first to himself then me. I incline my head before looking away. I know how the Dauntless initiation goes. The odds are not in their favour; I can only hope that they will end up factionless over the alternative.

 

*

 

I met Combeferre on my first day of school. He had seemed just as excited as I was to at last be starting our formal education. When I’d spotted the blue amongst the crowd, identifying him as a fellow Erudite, I’d begun making my way over immediately. The fact that he already wore glasses impressed me greatly.

A lot has changed since those days but our friendship has not. We’ve been planning the swap to Dauntless for years- the best faction to prepare us for what we are planning. Now that the choosing has finally happened it feels like our plans have turned to action. As we travel to the Dauntless headquarters, I can see the spark of excitement in his eyes mirroring my own.

 

*

 

I notice the bodies in the cars in front of us start flying out the windows, across a sizeable gap and landing on a rooftop.

‘I think this is our stop,’ I say. It feels strange to talk after being silent for so long. Joly and Bossuet, who have been chatting quietly for the entire train ride, look up at me and then out the window to see the Dauntless leaping into the air. A pulse of panic seems to pass through our carriage for a second but then it’s gone and we are all on our feet, bodies facing the opening and the rooftop beyond. Before the rest of us can even think to act Bossuet has launched himself, with surprising power, out of the opening. I feel a surge of pride for this boy I don’t even know at his lack of hesitation. He makes it onto the roof but his feet don’t quite catch him and he rolls forward. I hear Joly gasp beside me and suddenly he’s gone, I see him stumble his landing onto the roof, regain his footing and immediately help Bossuet get back onto his feet.

Perhaps I underestimated them both.

Combeferre turns to me, eyebrows raised in invitation. I nod before taking a running leap. I land on the roof hard and stumble forward onto my knees. I’m on my feet again by the time Combeferre joins me and we gather with the rest of the initiates at the edge of the rooftop around one of the Dauntless leaders. I’ve glanced his profile once or twice whilst doing research back in the Erudite sector; his name is Max.

I wait patiently as Max tells the initiates that the entrance to the Dauntless compound is several feet below- a hole in the ground that we must blindly jump into. An uneasiness spreads through the crowd around me but I’m unsurprised. I’ve already read all there is to know about how Dauntless initiation works. I’m about to step forward and claim First Jumper but another boy beats me to it; nonchalantly making his way to the edge of the rooftop as his fellow initiates draw back. A Candor boy near me gasps. I frown in confusion wondering what could elicit such a strong reaction. Perhaps it’s because he’s impressed by the First Jumper’s bravery. Or maybe it’s because he wears grey pants of Abnegation and a worn looking white t-shirt from Candor, making him look like one of the Factionless. Either way the gasp seems overdramatic in the already tense atmosphere.

I miss the jump because I’m too busy watching the Candor boy but moments later sound rises from beneath us: a faint voice from within the compound announcing ‘First jumper- Feuilly’. A line begins to form and one by one we all make the jump.

The air rushes up to meet me when I step off the roof and I am engulfed by a sudden darkness before the net catches me. Air escapes me in a hiss as I hit the tight ropes bound together beneath my back, breaking my fall with something only just softer than concrete. I roll off quickly, knowing the next jumper will be following soon. I’d rather not be squished beneath them.

One of the Dauntless nods to me with a smile once I’m on my feet again. Tattoos wind their way up one of his arms while the other is completely bare and he has deep brown, almost black, curls but it’s his eyes that catch my attention. They are a piercing emerald green, sparkling with amusement as he readily meets my stare. Neither of us breaks it.

‘Come on, R, give it a rest. Are you trying to scare off the new initiates before the fun has even begun?’ a female voice cuts through our silence. His eyes break contact with me as she shoves him playfully in the shoulder.

A hand on my shoulder lets me know that Combeferre has just made the jump. I glance over at him but he’s eyeing the two Dauntless wearily.

‘Ooh a matching set of Erudites. You seem to have a clingy bunch this year, R. I saw an Amity and Abnegation boy who seemed tied at the hip make the jump a few minutes ago,’ the Dauntless girl says with a smirk before training her eyes back on us and dropping the smile. ‘I wouldn’t get to friendly, kids, you’re all competing against each other now. Welcome to Dauntless.’

The other one- R - snorts before throwing an arm over her shoulder and turning away, ‘Now who’s scaring them off, ‘Ponine?’

I watch their retreating figures for a moment feeling a mixture of outrage and discomfort: there is some truth to what she said. Except for Combeferre. He is not my competition; he’s my ally in this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R pauses, eyes roaming up and down the line, sizing us up. 'There are three stages to your initiation: physical, emotional and mental. At each stage you’re ranked according to how you performed. For now we’ll be concentrating on shooting a gun and hand-to-hand combat.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's shown in interest in the fic so far. It's really encouraging <3

 

There are 10 transfer initiates and 14 Dauntless born initiates. Only 10 of us will be allowed to become fully-fledged Dauntless members. Panic tugs at my insides as Eric explains this; I hadn’t expect them to accept so few. There are cries of outrage from the initiates around me as he gives a brief outline of the initiation process and it’s clear that most of them where unaware of how hard it would be. How could they not have looked into this before they made their decision? Are the other factions really _so_ incurious?

After the jump the initiates were split into Dauntless-born and transfers. The tour around the Dauntless compound was brief but interesting: the Pit, the Chasm, everything is so different to what I’m used to and the chaos of it is somehow both disturbing and refreshing. Meeting Eric had been the most disturbing, however, and knowing that he’s one of the Dauntless leaders makes me even more wary of the authorities under which our factions operate. He’s Dauntless to the point of being insane and there is a malicious hunger about him that no honest leader should have. He may be a problem.

It’s only once we’ve claimed beds in the initiate’s sleeping quarters that I can finally talk to Combeferre properly. He looks concerned and as I sit down he jumps right in, ‘You still think we can get through?’

‘They accept less initiates than we anticipated but I’m willing to bet we’ve done more research into Dauntless initiation than any of the other transfers. That should give us a head start.’ I reply massaging my temples, the noise of the Dauntless is overwhelming.

‘There are 14 Dauntless born initiates, Enj. I think their head start kind of cancels ours out…’

‘When did you turn so cynical?’ I retort. Combeferre holds up both hands defensively.

‘I’m just trying to look at this realistically.’ There’s a pause and then he sighs, ‘At least if either of us fails we’ll have someone on the inside with Dauntless and someone with the Factionless. Unless we both fail… or die,’ he says this last bit with a wry smile. I’m about to respond when someone drops onto the bed beside mine.

‘Phew some welcome, ey? Only 10 initiates will become members yadda, yadda, yadda. Should just kill us now and get it over with,’ say the new comer. I recognize him as the gasping Candor boy from the roof. ‘I’m Courfeyrac by the way. I’m guessing you guys are Erudite,’

‘How very perceptive of you,’ I reply wryly, we haven’t changed out of our Erudite blue yet. Courfeyrac smiles, unfazed.

‘So you’re Enjolras then,’

‘Says who?’ I retort.

‘Says Bossuet. How did he describe you again? ‘The less approachable one’. In Candor we just call that rude,’ he says with a smug smile.

Combeferre chuckles, ‘You get used to him.’

‘Which means you’re Combeferre,’ Courfeyrac directs his gaze to Combeferre, his seemingly permanent smile still in place. Combeferre nods and they shake hands, somewhat awkwardly as it’s a Dauntless greeting that neither of them is used to. ‘So have you guys met any of the others?’ Courfeyrac asks indicating to the room in general where the initiates are gathered. His smile widens when we shake our heads, ‘Well you’ve met Bossuet and Joly, obviously, and there’s an Erudite girl you guys must at least vaguely know, name’s Tess I think?’ Combeferre nods, ‘then there’s two girls from my faction: Anita and Verity, a boy from Amity called Jehan and then there’s –‘

‘Feuilly,’ it’s the first jumper who interrupts us as he takes a seat on the bed beside Combeferre’s. ‘I’m Feuilly. It’s nice to see you again, Courfeyrac.’ He says his lips twitching into a slight smile, like it’s not something he’s used to doing.

‘Likewise. Though I must say you’re reappearance has come as a shock,’ there’s a slight crease between Courfeyrac’s brows as he watches Feuilly. I raise an inquisitive eyebrow but Feuilly takes his time replying.

‘Yeah… well, I’m back now. Listen, we’ll catch up later ok? I’m gonna go get changed,’ and with that he stands, grabs some Dauntless clothes, from where they sit waiting, and stalks out of the room.

Courfeyrac is still frowning and I can’t contain my curiosity so I ask, ‘What was that all about?’

Suddenly the grin is back as Courfeyrac directs his gaze back to me, ‘He was from Candor. Disappeared about a year ago without a word. We all thought he was dead. I guess not though,’ he shrugs. ‘You guys should probably get changed too,’ he adds before getting to his feet and walking in the direction of the two Candor girls.

 

*

 

‘All right, guys, line up. Come on hurry up, I hate being up this early as much as you do but the faster you make yourself move the quicker you’ll wake up.’ It’s R who greets us when we enter the training room. The initiates line up against the back wall and he stands before us tossing a gun casually between his hands. ‘You were supposed to be going through your training with Four but since Lauren, who normally trains the Dauntless born initiates, is recovering from a fall- well, it was more of a jump actually- he’s taken her job and I’m left to babysit the newbies. Consider yourselves lucky. Four can be pretty fucking scary when he wants.’ He pauses, eyes roaming up and down the line, sizing us up. ‘Ok. So there are three stages to your initiation: physical, emotional and mental. At each stage you’re ranked according to how you performed and the lowest ranking initiates will be dropped after stages 1 and 3. For now we’ll be concentrating on shooting a gun and hand-to-hand combat.’

It takes a while for me to adjust to the weight and workings of the gun. Positioning my body correctly and learning to relax and breath at the right times is even harder. I spend a frustrating few minutes shooting a target that I miss too often. The more I do it, though, the more I adjust and learn from what I’m doing wrong. By the time we’ve finished shooting the whole process feels more natural.

Moving on to the punching bag is grueling and my knuckles turn raw and red the more I hit at the immobile bag. I try to ignore the pain and concentrate on putting as much power into my hits as possible. The real pain will come later but it will eventually be followed by strength. It’s harder to keep that in mind when you can feel your instructor watching you, smirking at your efforts.

R walks past each of us casually, instructing very occasionally, but mostly he just watches from the side and acts more like a spectator than instructor. It makes me want to punch him. But I prefer him to Eric.

When Eric comes to observe (which only happens occasionally to us, though I’ve heard the dauntless born initiates complain that he’s in their training all the time) the room suddenly becomes tense. He picks on anyone doing poorly and his intentions towards them become close to violent. The first time it happened I expected R to let him get violent, it seemed within the scope of his nonchalant character, but he broke away from the wall he had been leaning on, sauntered over to where Eric was bearing down on the Amity boy- Jehan- and spoke to him, his tone irritated rather than angry, ‘Come on, Eric, go pick on Four’s group. It’s him you want to rile up not me.’ Eric had glared at him but after a few more choice comments about Jehan’s masculinity he had left. Though we’re still all wary of Eric it’s comforting to know that R doesn’t have trouble getting rid of him.

 

*

 

Our second day starts as early as the first but this time when we enter the training room we’re not punching bags. There’s a ring set up in the center of the room and a blackboard with our names scribbled on in white chalk.

‘Time for some hand-to-hand combat. As you can see on the board you’re already paired up. Each of you will fight once today and the rules are simple: you fight until one concedes. Be warned, if you concede too easily the fight will continue until I’m satisfied that you can’t physically fight any longer,’ as R tells us the instructions there’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes. It’s not a malicious look though, and I find some small comfort in that. And in the fact that Eric has chosen not to watch us today. ‘First fighters: Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Step right up,’ he says glancing at both of us before moving out of the way, allowing us to take his place in the circle.

I feel a twist of nervous knots in my stomach as I stand across from Courfeyrac. We seem evenly matched: I’m only a couple of inches taller and we have a similar build. I raise my firsts to shield my face and torso and Courfeyrac mirrors me. He still has a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, which watch me in a careful, measured way.

‘Don’t go too easy on me, Nose,’ he pipes up, his grin suddenly genuine. I can’t help but return it.

‘I promise I wont, Smart-mouth,’ I reply, adopting the Dauntless nickname for his old faction as well.

I throw the first punch. He blocks it with his arm and the place where our bodies make contact aches. His arm is red when I retract my fist. I take another swing quickly, trying to catch him off guard, and manage to graze his ear. Courfeyrac winces and bounces back a few paces. I follow, feeling I have the upper hand. I’m watching his expression and miss the movement as his knee comes up to make contact with my stomach. I feel pain stab through me and I double over, wincing. Courfeyrac tries to take advantage of my momentary stumble but as he comes towards me I grab his middle and force him to the floor. I hear his groan as his back slams into the ground. I don’t want to kick him while he’s down but I know if I let him up R will tell me off. Instead I sit on his chest, pinning his arms to the ground with my knees. Courfeyrac struggles but doesn’t concede. I punch him across the face hoping it’ll knock him out but, while he lets out a gasp of pain, his eyes aren’t even bleary when we stares back up me, his lips bloody. I pause willing him to give up but he takes my moment of mercy to spit blood in my face. I crinkle my nose in disgust before slamming my fist into his face again. This time the focus does leave his eyes. He stares at me blearily for a second before tapping the ground twice.

‘All right. Courfeyrac’s tapped out. Enjolras wins,’ R says as he enters the ring. I pull Courfeyrac to his feet and help him stumble away from the fight circle. Sitting him down on the ground against one of the walls, I crouch in front of him.

‘You alright?’ I ask. He’s still bleary eyed and I’m worried he’s going to black out. Courfeyrac stares at me for a moment, eyes struggling to focus on mine, but eventually he manages to nod.

‘Good fight, Enjolras,’ he says, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. I muster up a grin in return though I feel sick looking at what I’ve done to him.

A shriek alerts us to the fact that the next fight has started. Tess, the girl from my faction, is fighting Feuilly. I can see that he’s trying to finish her quickly but she’s persistent, there are three lines of blood gleaming fresh across Feuilly’s face from her nails. She’s quick and manages to get a foot between his legs and trip him. But before she can bring her foot down hard on his stomach Feuilly has grabbed her foot and pulled her down to the ground beside him. He punches her in the side once and she too taps out.

‘Feuilly wins. Next pair,’ R announces and the next fight begins. The next three fights take us past lunch. Bossuet fights Verity, Joly fights Anita and the last fight is between Combeferre and Jehan.

I know it’s a problem as soon as I see them both enter the fight circle. Combeferre is over a head taller than Jehan. Neither of them looks willing to fight and I know for a fact this is the part Combeferre has been dreading most. He’s quiet and gentle in nature, though he can fight when necessary, and putting him against another gentler and unwilling opponent won’t put him in the headspace he needs in order to get the fight over with. The punches they trade lack strength and neither is taking advantage of weaknesses in the other’s stance. I glance at R as they fight: he looks unimpressed but also resigned. Eventually he has to push himself away from the wall and approach the fight.

‘If neither of you starts throwing some real punches soon you will both be fighting me,’ he growls, his expression stern. I can hear Combeferre’s sigh from where I stand before he aims a punch at an unprotected portion of Jehan’s stomach. But Jehan’s resolve seems to have strengthened under R’s threat as well and he begins fighting back in earnest. Even so, the fight is short; a heavy blow to the temple knocks Jehan out after about 5 minutes of dodging and punching. R gives Combeferre instructions to take him to the Infirmary and then lets us leave for the day.

We head out, wincing at the pain in various bruised body parts and muscles. I slow down to keep pace with Courfeyrac and we both watch Combeferre carrying Jehan down an unfamiliar corridor.

‘I’m glad we were at least evenly matched. Jehan is tiny compared to Combeferre. It doesn’t seem very fair,’ say Courfeyrac as he watches them disappear out of view.

‘It doesn’t. But I think Combeferre was a good choice for Jehan’s first fight. He’s not overly violent and he was unwilling to put all his strength into hurting Jehan. He could have been knocked out much more quickly and mercilessly by someone like, say, Anita,’ I reply thinking of the Candor girl’s bulky and intimidating build in comparison to little Jehan. She looked almost savage during her fight with Joly, at one point he looked as if he was considering tapping out just to get away from her primal yelling.

‘True,’ Courfeyrac sighs, ‘Still, I feel sorry for the Amity guys. Bossuet seems to handle it ok because he’s got some muscle on him, I guess from all the farming, but Jehan… not only is he small but he probably hasn’t come into contact with much pain- physical or emotional-, it’s not allowed in their faction. Where else in Candor you’ve got to have a pretty thick skin to be around people who tell you exactly what they think of you all the time. It leads to physical conflict more often than you’d think. And I’m willing to bet you Erudite have your fare share of conflict since you’re all so competitively big headed,’ he says it good naturedly with a teasing punch on my shoulder. ‘Hell, even Abnegation might have been exposed to more conflict than Amity. They deal with some pretty desperate factionless after all,’ he shrugs.

‘I guess he’s just gonna have to toughen up quickly,’ I reply. It feels cruel.

 

*

 

‘How is he?’ I ask Combeferre when he collapses onto the bench next to me with a plate of food.  I spent the last hour with Courfeyrac and a couple of the other initiates exploring the Dauntless compound. Combeferre spent the whole time with Jehan, waiting for him to wake up.

‘He’s ok. R sent me away so he could talk to him for a while,’ he replies before taking a bite of dinner. I want to know what R would be talking to Jehan about but Combeferre doesn’t look as though he wants to discuss it so I let him eat in peace. It’ll be easier for him tomorrow; his opponent will hopefully be more evenly matched.

As it turns out his opponent is Bossuet. He spends more time in the ring this time round and I watch with a building sense of horror as my best friend’s face is molded into something pink, purple and unrecognizable. Bossuet is bleeding from cuts in his cheek and lip and they both draw increasingly ragged breaths, their movements gradually becoming slow and sluggish. It takes almost 20 minutes till it ends. Bossuet stumbles as he throws a punch directed at Combeferre’s stomach and falls to his knees. Combeferre kicks his shoulder and he collapses backwards onto the ground, I hear the wind leave his lungs in a great gasp as he hits the concrete floor. His face is contorted in pain and finally he taps out.

Combeferre collapses beside him and they both stay immobile on the floor, gasping for breath.

‘I think we’ll take an early lunch while these two recover,’ R says breaking the silence, ‘After lunch: Anita vs Tess, Verity vs Jehan and Enjolras vs Feuilly. Enjolras, help me get these two to the Infirmary.’ The others file out as I hurry forward to help Combeferre rise unsteadily to his feet. R, ‘Ferre and I stand around Bossuet for a moment before it becomes clear he won’t be getting to his feet any time soon. With a quiet sigh R bends down and picks him up, as easily as if he weighed no more than a small sack of potatoes rather than a grown man.

I follow him out of the training room, supporting Combeferre’s increasingly heavy body as I go. After a few more turns we enter a room with a nurse’s station and beds lined up in rows, divided by curtain partitions. I lead ‘Ferre to one of the beds and help him lie down. He manages to breath out a weak ‘thank you’.

‘Better head back now if you want something to eat before we start again,’ R’s voice sounds from behind me making me jump. I turn to face him and can see one of the Dauntless nurses tending to Bossuet on a bed behind him.

‘I’m fine, I’d rather stay here for now,’ I reply. But when I make to turn away his hand on my shoulder stops me. I look up at him, noticing how bright his eyes are again, and his expression is earnest.

‘Believe me, you need to eat something. You’re up against Feuilly next and he’s the best of the new initiates,’

‘Are you saying you don’t like my chances?’ I snap. It seems to amuse him but he contains his smile.

‘I’m saying you have no chance but the longer you can stay conscious the more points you get for trying,’ I wrench my shoulder out of his grip and glare at him.

‘I think I’ll do just fine, R, despite the lack of training you’ve provided me with’ I reply before turning my back on him and going to sit on the seat beside Combeferre’s bed. After a few moments I hear R leave.

 

*

 

I’m prepared to pay for those words when I get back to training but R doesn’t give me a second glance as I file in behind Jehan. I can’t process much of the next fight. I keep glancing at Feuilly; noticing that he really is tall and his arms are long with sinewy muscle running up them and how his every movement is precise. I can see that in the way he shifts his body; moving into more comfortable positions takes one thought-out action and then he’s still again. I’m glad I didn’t have lunch because I suddenly feel like throwing up. R was right: I have no chance.

I’m distracted momentarily by the sound of cheering. I focus on the fight to discover Jehan quite thoroughly destroying Verity. He seems to have picked up a whole new fighting style between yesterday and today. The nimble dodges followed by quick, strategically placed jabs are a complete contrast to the clumsy, halfhearted hits from his fight against Combeferre. Now I know what R was talking to him about in the Infirmary yesterday and suddenly I’m wishing I hadn’t snapped at my instructor. Maybe he would have given me some advice too and I’d actually be in with a chance. Jehan punches Verity twice in the throat and she goes down, the knock to the head as she falls finishes her off.

The next thing I’m aware of is my name strung into the same sentence as Feuilly’s and suddenly I’m in the fight circle. Feuilly eyes me critically and it’s such an Erudite look that I’m momentarily caught off guard. He steals the chance to make the first move. I’m on the ground in seconds. He kicks me in the side and I roll away clutching my side in pain. I push that pain to the side and use the momentum from my roll to lurch back to my feet. Feuilly’s fist skims my shoulder but my quick recovery has taken him by surprise and the punch doesn’t have much force behind it. I turn and aim a quick punch square in his face. His head snaps back at the contact and I force my knee into his stomach. He stumbles back, one hand clutching a bleeding nose the other wrapped protectively around his stomach.

I don’t give him time to recover and instead I run at him intending to land another kick to his stomach. But Feuilly has somehow predicted my movements and suddenly his hand has formed a steel cage around my foot and he twists till I fall to the ground. I see his foot travelling fast towards my face.

Everything turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘As you can see we’re taking a break from the usual today and starting knife throwing,’ R tells us as his eyes scan the blades on the table before him. He selects one and throws it lightly into the air, catching it again, handle in hand.

 

R walks towards me down a bright white corridor with a strangely gentle expression on his face. The tattoos on his arms furl and unfurl around each other, travelling around his arm so fast it makes me dizzy. He places a hand on my cheek with a smile and, bringing his face so close to mine that his lips graze my ear, he whispers, ‘I told you. You didn’t stand a chance.’

Then he’s gone and I’m looking at my father; standing in my bedroom doorway at home. He’s shaking his head, his features arranged in that familiar look of disappointment. ‘You’re wasting talent on this research, Enjolras. The faction system is the only thing keeping peace. The Factionless don’t fit with the rest of us, and if they can’t help themselves then they can’t be helped at all.’ I want to point out the flaws in his logic, show him my own plans for a better way that we can all live together- equally and liberated from the limits that Factions put on us- but suddenly I’m on my feet, my fist pulled back to punch him. I have no control over my body as my fist makes contact with his face and he’s knocked to the ground.

Then I wake.

 

*

 

I get the night to recover but the next morning I’m back in the training room with the other initiates. We’re all aching, bruised and tired but somehow still on our feet. There’s a unanimous release of tension when we see the table lined with knives and the targets beyond. No fights today.

‘As you can see we’re taking a break from the usual today and starting knife throwing,’ R tells us as his eyes scan the blades on the table before him. He selects one and throws it lightly into the air, catching it again, handle in hand. ‘I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely stuck up so I’m just gonna go ahead and say it. I’m pretty fucking amazing with knives but it was never a learnt skill from me; it just came naturally. Therefore, I have absolutely no idea how to teach it. So I’ve invited a fellow Dauntless from my initiation year to take you through the technique. Kids, this is Bahorel,’ I’m not sure how I missed the hulking figure standing near the targets. He cuts an impressive and intimidating figure draped in shadows and when he steps forward tattoos stand out along both arms, wrapped around thick lines of muscle. He has an easy smile, though, and seems good-natured enough as he jokes with R.

‘Alright. So if everyone can watch Grantaire as he takes the stage we can get this little lesson under way,’ he says clapping his hands together gleefully.  I glance at Combeferre and Courfeyrac in confusion but their expressions mirror mine. R steps up to one of the targets with his knife but laughs when he notices our confusion.

‘You thought R was actually my real name? Come on guys, it’s obviously a nickname,’ he says rolling his eyes before turning his back on us to face the target once more.

Bahorel takes over the explanations now that R- or should I say Grantaire- is concentrating on the target. He draws our attention to the direction of R’s body, the spacing between his feet and the places where his body is held tense or relaxed. I can feel inexplicable heat rushing to my cheeks as I run my eyes up and down his body, even though it’s what I’ve been told to do, and the memory of the dream I had after Feuilly knocked me out floats at the surface of my mind. I try to push it to the back of my mind but the burning in my cheeks persists as I watch the muscles in his tattoo-less arm contract and release when R lets the dagger fly. It hits the target dead center. We clap appreciatively and R takes a mock bow. We watch three more times and I concentrate on different parts of him each time. The follow-through of his arm, the way his back curves when he throws, the unwavering gaze of his eyes on the target. I try to convince myself that I’m analyzing him, observing to retain and replicate what he’s doing, but I’m not convinced.

‘You ok, Enj?’ Courfeyrac asks, waking me from my thoughts. I give my head a slight shake and train my eyes on Courfeyrac’s concerned gaze.

‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Your cheeks are flushed. Are you sure you’re feeling ok? Not feverish?’ Combeferre pipes up. I will myself not to blush further as a sick sense of embarrassment fills me. I shake my head more fervently and smile in what I hope is a mollifying way.

‘No, really, I feel fine. Let’s go,’ I say before leading them over to the knife table and selecting a few blades at random.

We take our positions in front of the remaining targets. I try to replicate R’s stance and loosen or tighten muscles according to Bahorel’s instructions before focusing my eyes on the target. I hold the gaze for a few seconds before forcing my arm forward and releasing the blade. It hits the board that surrounds the target, sticks for a millisecond and then drops to the floor. I try again, making sure to breath out when I release and put as much force into the throw as possible. This time the knife soars over the top of the target and sticks into the wall behind it. At least it doesn’t drop.

‘You’re too tense. Relax, Enjolras, and just chuck the knife at the target,’ I stiffen at R’s voice from behind me. I hadn’t realized I was being watched. I turn to him feeling immediately defensive.

‘I was relaxed. I was relaxed exactly where Bahorel told me I needed to relax, _Grantaire_ ,’ I reply, a challenging eyebrow raised. He smiles and shakes his head.

‘You’re concentrating so hard on relaxing that you’re making yourself tense. I know you’re used to analyzing everything, your eyes almost burnt a hole in my back you were watching the demonstration so intently. Try not thinking about all that and just throw the way it feels most natural.’

‘I’m throwing a knife. That doesn’t feel natural,’ I retort knowing full well that I shouldn’t be snapping at him this much, he’s trying to help. I will not admit that it’s ‘cause I’m embarrassed. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was told to watch. But he’s still smiling, his expression becoming increasingly amused.

‘Fair point.  But just try it out and I’ll help you fix what you’re doing wrong,’ he says. At his nod towards the target I turn, withholding a sigh, and line myself up. I throw the knife, trying to ignore the technique I’ve just learnt, and it hits just outside the target and sticks. I turn back to R who’s looking at me critically.

‘Ok, let’s try this,’ he murmurs as his hands reach towards me. I’m watching his hands and therefore notice the slight hesitation. Before I can check his expression, though, he’s gripped my waist firmly and turned me back towards the target, facing it at a diagonal with my throwing arm forward. I hear my own quiet, surprised gasp and clamp my mouth shut quickly, hoping he didn’t notice the reaction. If he does there’s no comment. One hand travels up to grip my neck lightly as he guides the direction of my head while the other travels slowly along my throwing arm pausing at various points as he explains where it should bend, where the muscle should stretch, how I should flick my wrist as I release the blade. He puts a hand on each of my shoulders and firmly pushes down, forcing me to relax. My skin is warm where he has touched.

‘Ok,’ he says, his lips so close I can feel his breath tickling my skin, ‘Concentrate on the point you’re aiming at. Raise the blade and decide where your hand needs to be when you release the knife so that it hits that mark… good,’ he steps back, the cold air that rushes to replace his body heat raises goose bumps along my skin. ‘Now, throw.’

I do. The dagger flicks out of my hand and lodges itself into the flesh of the target only centimeters from where I meant it to go. I smile. So does R, when I glance over my shoulder at him. He nods and then moves away.

 

*

 

The atmosphere in this initiate’s dorm is much lighter tonight than it’s been since we got here. Bruises and injuries have gotten a chance to heal a bit during today’s break from hand to hand combat. As I watch my fellow initiates milling around it strikes me as odd that most of us have become friends despite the fact that we’re competing and have given each other blood noses, cuts, bruises and sprains on a daily basis. Combeferre and I are sitting together on my bed talking about the throwing techniques we learnt today with Courfeyrac and Jehan. Feuilly is leaning against Courfeyrac’s bedframe listening. Joly and Bossuet have left to explore more of the compound. It’s rare to ever see them apart. Tess and Verity are chatting away amiably across the room and Anita is in the Recovery Room after giving herself a particularly deep cut in the thigh during training today.

Somehow the conversation turns to our reasons for joining Dauntless.

‘I just got sick of having to hear the painful truth all the time, it’s rare that anyone bothers to tell you the truth about your positive attributes. Dauntless seemed the best fit. It’s what the test told me, anyway,’ Courf tells us with a shrug. I nod, the Aptitude test, which tells us which Faction we are most suited to, suggested Dauntless for me as well. But I knew this would be my choice before I took the test anyway.

‘How about you, Jehan? It’s an unusual choice for Amity,’ I ask, deflecting the question from Combeferre or myself.

‘I found something out that made me… less captivated by my Faction…’ he pauses looking around at our confused expressions. ‘No ones supposed to know this but… I was in the kitchens one morning and saw it happen. Amity has a peace serum design to stop conflict. It supposedly doesn’t get used often because we very rarely have any conflict but it turns out the reason for that is that they’ve been putting it in the bread. The whole of Amity is drugged daily and they don’t even know it. I couldn’t stay there knowing that so I decided to transfer. I’m probably not smart enough for Erudite, Candor seemed too cruel and Abnegation smothers every ounce of creativity and expression a person can have. So I chose Dauntless,’ I haven’t known much about Jehan till now but suddenly I find myself warming to him. The trick with the bread isn’t actually new to me; it’s just another reason why our whole system needs changing. Courfeyrac looks openly outraged at Amity’s deception and Feuilly’s face is etched in a deep frown. I’m beginning to realise that these are people that I can trust.

I look at Combeferre and find that he’s looking at me too. I raise a questioning eyebrow and he glances at the others for a moment before giving me the slightest of nods. It seems he agrees.

‘The bread thing is actually known by a lot of Erudites. They know a lot of secrets about the inner workings of all the Factions. And yet they hoard the knowledge and make no attempts to change or improve the injustice. It’s part of the reason Combeferre and I left. But… we also joined Dauntless because we’re planning something. Something big,’ I pause looking around at their faces, they’re all listening attentively but, as I glance over to check that Tess and Verity are still occupied, my attention is caught by a miniscule camera in the corner of the room. I frown. The Dauntless, like the other Factions, monitor their members, though they’d never admit it. Though I doubt they’d find a group of 16 year olds threatening, I’m still weary of saying anything too rebellious. ‘Something to change how we’re governed, how our societies structured and, most importantly, raise the Factionless up so that we’re all equal,’ this seems to pique Feuilly’s interest, I see him lean forward ever so slightly.

‘I want in,’ he says. ‘Whatever you’re planning, you need me. Want to know where I went when I left Candor? I wanted to see how the Factionless were living, I wanted to know how different from the rest of us they actually are. So I lived amongst them for a year. And it’s not fair that they’ve been so thoroughly rejected by society. Many of them are angry… They’re more organized than you’d think,’ he finishes, his eyes fixed on mine.

I feel a grin spread slowly across my lips. This unexpected piece of information is better than Combeferre and I could have dreamed. Feuilly can get us access to the Factionless. I can feel excitement coursing through my veins, heating my blood.

‘Count me in as well,’ says Courfeyrac.

‘And me,’ Jehan this time.

I gaze around at the four pairs of eyes blazing before me. More allies. This is actually going to work. I can feel it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My eyes fly open and I lurch my body forward, clutching my face in my hands and drawing my legs up to my chest as I draw great gulps of air. I can feel the echoes of gunshots in my chest, burning even though they weren’t real.  
> ‘That was…interesting,’ R’s voice drags me back to reality. I stiffen. He saw everything. ‘You’re very,’ he pauses, searching for the right word, ‘Ambitious.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all those people who have left kudos and stuff. You're all the best <3  
> Enjoy the latest chapter.

A giant game of capture the flag involving paintball guns and all the initiates is not a part of the initiation process that I was anticipating. Maybe Dauntless does still have some secrets from Erudite. Or maybe I just never found this particular one.  
A Dauntless who I’ve come to recognize by sight as Four wakes us late in the night. We have 5 minutes to get to the train. Once we’re all on the train we’re split into two teams by R and Four. I join R’s team along with Jehan, Joly, Tess and Anita. I don’t know the names of any of the Dauntless born initiates on my team but somehow, between the Choosing Ceremony and now, they’ve lost the aura of intimidation they held to me before. By the time we’ve jumped off the train and made our way out of sight of the other team I already have a plan forming in my mind.  
R gathers us into a circle in the shadow of a crumbling building. ‘Ok, anyone got an idea of how you’re gonna play this out?’ I have my answer ready as soon as he finishes and I pipe up before any of the others can.  
‘We hide the flag up high. Somewhere that’s difficult to get to but also visible. We station the majority of us at high points around the flag so that we can pick them off as they try to make the climb. My guess is that if the flag is easily visible to them they’ll release a large portion of their group to come get it, knowing it will be well guarded and lots of them will be picked off since they have the lower ground. A small group, comprised of our fastest runners, will scout out their flag by following the other team backwards. With most of their group hunting down our flag it shouldn’t be too difficult to shoot down their defences and grab the flag,’ silence meets my words. Then:  
‘Nice plan, nose. I’m the best climber we’ve got. I’ll take the flag up as high as I can on the Ferris wheel. If we have a couple of shooters on the wheel and the rest in the buildings surrounding it we shouldn’t have much trouble picking them off,’ it’s one of the Dauntless born who speaks up. I don’t recognize her but she’s tall with long limbs so I don’t doubt she can get the flag up higher faster than any of the rest of us.  
The rest of us divide up into two groups. Although I’m the best shot of the transfer initiates the rest of the Dauntless born in our team are heavily muscled and therefore slower so I join the running team along with Jehan, Tess and two Dauntless born initiates.  
Once the flag is in place we wait in the shadows for the other team to come. It doesn’t take long. I see Feuilly running from shadow to shadow as he makes his way towards our flag. I pass him as quickly and quietly as I can and make my way back the way he came. I pass unfamiliar initiates from the other team and follow their path back to what once must have been a park.  
The gate is dented and bent, there are great spaces of bare dirt where the grass has died but the trees have thrived and their branches have become densely entangled, blocking out any light the moon would have provided. This will be difficult.  
I let the moonlight reflect light off of my gun before darting back into the shadows just as a paintball explodes on the pavement where I had been standing. I scan the trees in the direction it came from, looking for any sign of movement. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I can just make out a smidge of red amongst the branches of the trees. I aim at the fraction of colour and shoot. A groan from the darkness lets me know I’ve hit my target. I grin before advancing quickly into the park, letting the trees cloak me in their darkness.  
The shadows seem to block out any sound. I look around carefully. No flashes of colour leap out at me but I know they must be up in the trees around me somewhere. Suddenly I wish I’d worn a hat, or dyed my hair a less conspicuous colour. I make my way forward carefully, throwing sticks, if I can find them, to direct attention elsewhere.  
I begin to make out the shape of a playground up ahead and I know that’s where they’re keeping the flag. There’s no knowing how many initiates are in that little wooden cubby house guarding it though. I see a familiar figure crouched in the shadow of a tree not too far in front of me. Jehan. I approach cautiously and clamp a hand around his mouth to stop him audibly reacting. His eyes meet mine and his gun is pressed to my temple. I grin. Slowly I lower my hand and he lowers the gun.  
‘Two initiates in the trees. One on the left and one on the right of the house. ‘Ferre’s inside,’ he whispers so quietly I can barely hear. I nod, my smile widening, of course he is.  
Suddenly there’s movement to the right of the house. The initiate in the tree is shot by Tess who’s shot by the other initiate. I use the moment of confusion to dart under the cubby house. I can just make out the whites of Jehan’s eyes as he aims his paintball gun at the initiate who shot Tess. From the base of the stairs that lead up into the cubby house I can see Combeferre watching the trees where Jehan is standing, he’s taking aim. I quietly maneuver my gun around to aim at Combeferre. Jehan takes the shot at the same time as Combeferre. But ‘Ferre misses and while he mutters a curse and swings his gun up again I take my shot. Paint splatters into his eyes and I use his momentary blindness to haul myself up onto the top step. The flag is hanging from the ceiling behind him. Before he can raise his gun I’ve side stepped him and am clutching the red fabric tightly in my fist, I can’t help the triumphant smile that flashes across my face.

*

Our rankings are revealed a few days later. Feuilly is first, I’m second, Anita third and Combeferre fourth. Verity and Tess are at the bottom. When the cuts are announced both of them are forced to leave, along with a few Dauntless born initiates I don’t know. I breathe a sigh of relief. Two more stages and we’re in.  
Some masochistic part of me is excited for the second stage: the Dauntless fear simulation that will show me my greatest fears. The rest of me is heavy with dread and would rather go back to shooting a gun at a target for the next few weeks.  
We wait in a corridor, Dauntless-born and transfer initiates mixed, waiting till it’s our turn to be called into the room. I’m trying to calm my body down as much as possible. I’m not sure how I’ll react to the simulation that’s to come or what I’m supposed to do once I’m in, though I’m guessing it will have something to do with making tough decisions to confront my fears.  
The room seems to take forever to empty. Jehan is the first of us to enter. Three dauntless-born later, Feuilly enters the room. Joly follows.  
‘Enjolras,’ R calls my name from the doorway and I push myself away from the wall to follow him into the room. There’s a seat similar to the one from the aptitude test that R directs me towards. The simulation machine beside it is familiar as well.  
‘As you probably know already, because you’re an Erudite know it all, this is our fear simulation. I’ll inject you with a serum that will bring your deepest fears to the forefront of your mind and trigger the symptoms of fear and panic. You’ll be kept under until you can slow your heartbeat and force yourself to relax. Either that or you have to find out a way to face your fear in some significant way. It’s all about learning to keep your head whilst confronted with your worst fears,’ he gazes at me with critical eyes, ‘Somehow, I think you’ll do pretty well at that.’  
I don’t know what to make of his compliment, if that’s what it is, but I don’t get a chance to think it over much before he’s retrieving a giant needle in one hand and using the other to gently move my head into a position that exposes more of my neck. His eyes seem to linger on the skin there but as he pushes the needle into my neck and I feel pain pulse from the point I know I must have imagined it.  
‘I’ll watch your progress through the images translated by the computer from your brain’s electrical activity. The serum will start to take effect in a few more seconds,’ R tells me as I lie back against the chair. I’m not sure how I feel about him having a window into my worst fears but I don’t really have a choice at this point. At least it’s not Eric.  
The serum takes hold.

*

There is screaming in the streets. I can’t see where it’s coming from, the only people on the street are Combeferre and me. There’s a jumbled structure before of us made up of what looks like broken furniture and the sound of gunshots emanates from behind it.  
‘It’s over, Enjolras! The Factionless are running scared and Dauntless security is coming for us,’ Combeferre is yelling at me but I don’t know what he’s talking about. ‘The plan has failed. You’ve failed.’ His words are a knife in the chest. It’s impossible. Everything we’ve worked towards for our entire lives has failed… the Factionless didn’t rise, the Government is coming for me…Those are the screams I hear.  
My knees give way beneath me and I hide my face in my hands feeling the fear and anguish overwhelm me. Failure.  
This is the end.  
The shots are coming closer, shrapnel for the barricade flies as it’s hit and the sound of running feet grows louder. I will die here. So will Combeferre and probably all the Factionless we have sought to protect. The pavement beneath me is running with blood and I can feel tears burning in my eyes.  
No.  
If I end this now the Factionless might be allowed to live, Combeferre can run… They can have time to regroup. They can form a new plan… without me. I’ve failed but the revolution has only been delayed.  
I force myself to stand and turn my face towards the sound of footsteps coming to a halt beyond the barricade.  
‘I’m the last Resistor,’ I yell once I reach the top. Slowly I pull myself into view above the sea of Dauntless security who have come to stop me. My father is with them, though I don’t know why.  
‘I told you it could never work, Enjolras,’ he tells me. He is the last thing I see before the force of 8 bullets hit me.

*

I wake in the chair. My eyes fly open and I lurch my body forward, clutching my face in my hands and drawing my legs up to my chest as I draw great gulps of air. I can feel the echoes of gunshots in my chest, burning even though they weren’t real.  
‘That was…interesting,’ R’s voice drags me back to reality. I stiffen. He saw everything. ‘You’re very,’ he pauses, searching for the right word, ‘Ambitious.’  
I don’t reply, instead I raise my head to gage his reaction. Will he tell his superiors? Maybe he thinks the fear is just symbolic of something else: failure in general. But then his last comment doesn’t make sense.  
I think there’s a hint of anger in his eyes as he opens his mouth to say something. But then he sighs, ‘You can go.’  
Still shaking slightly, I slide off the chair and leave the room.  
I can’t sleep that night. Around me my fellow initiates toss and turn, occasionally crying out in their sleep. I simply lie there, trying not to panic. It’s just a simulation I tell myself again and again, like a mantra.

*

I open my eyes to darkness. I can feel the cloth that’s pulled tight around my eyes- a blindfold. As I drift into awareness I become aware that I’m suspended in the air; my body forming an ‘X’ in mid air. My wrists and ankles chafe under the pressure of metal bonds and I can guess that those bonds are chained to walls on either side of me. The restraints are so tight I can barely move my body. I don’t even know why I’m here.  
I try to yell but nothing comes out.  
Helpless.  
I’m helpless.  
Suddenly I can feel something making it’s way up my leg, slowly looping itself around and up. I try to shake it off by I can’t move. Something else begins to make its way down my arm. Then my other arm. Then my other leg. The creatures tighten their grip and my body is constricted under the pressure, soon I can’t feel my limbs. Another one has made its way around my chest and torso and as it squeezes I gasp for breath. I can hear cracks as pain burns through my chest. Ribs are snapping one by one. I can’t move, I can’t feel, I can barely even think over the frantic beating of my heart and the gasping breaths I’m dragging in.  
Another of the creatures has made its way to my head and I clamp my mouth shut as I feel it nudging at my jaw. I’m grateful there is at least one part of my body that I still control. But the Thing is strong and when it finds my mouth I can feel it prising my lips apart. I lock my teeth together instead.  
As I feel it scraping against my teeth trying to find a way in I know I won’t be able to hold on much longer. The compression on my lungs isn’t letting enough oxygen in. I’m starting to feel lightheaded from that lack of air and the pain burning its way through my entire body from broken bones. I’m going to die.  
Is it worth the extra pain of trying to keep the Thing out of my mouth when it’s going to get in eventually anyway? I’m just delaying the inevitable. Maybe once it reaches my throat I’ll die quicker.  
I open my mouth. The creature fills the open space and pushes its way down my throat. My oxygen is cut off entirely.  
Suddenly I’m gasping for breath in the simulation room. I slump back against the seat for a moment to collect myself. R watches me silently, his eyes cautious. I stare back until my body has settled down. Then I get up and leave.

*

There’s a stranger kneeling in the street. Someone has a gun pressed to his head. I start towards him and the gunman, scrambling past people, but a solid mass of faceless figures closes in a circle around them and I can’t get through.  
I glance around looking for someone to help me but no one seems to notice what’s going on. Their eyes stare at the ground before them as they walk and don’t deviate even for a second. I can’t tell if they’re scared or if they’re purposely avoiding acknowledging the situation before them. Are they really ignoring this on purpose? I grab a girl’s shoulder as she passes me and force her to turn.  
‘Don’t you see what’s happening? Help me,’ I yell at her as I point to the man, the pressure of the gun barrel turning his skin white. She simply blinks.  
‘What do you mean? I don’t know how to help. What if he deserves it? No no, it’s best just to ignore it,’ she says shaking her head vigorously before breaking my grip on her and hurrying away.  
Not fear: ignorance. They’re all choosing to ignore it rather than help. I feel sick. And when I turn back to the man the gunman has taken the safety off the gun. How can no one react? What’s wrong with them? Do they not know how to stand up for others?  
Desperation courses through me. I kick my leg between the legs of one of the faceless guards and trip him up. As he falls to the ground I leap over him. I pull the gun barrel away from the man’s head to my own as the trigger is pulled.

*  
I can feel an ache deep in the bones of my arms. My knuckles have turned white where they grip a ledge of jagged rock. I look below me at the deep black chasm. I can hear the water rushing below. My heart bangs against my ribcage as I grip the edge tighter, my body dangles uselessly over the yawning darkness. There are footsteps above me and I look to see a figure standing above me.  
‘Combeferre! Help,’ I yell desperately. He quirks an eyebrow and smiles. His eyes roam over the scene before him.  
Without a word my best friend turns and walks away.  
‘Combeferre!’ I yell again. He doesn’t come back. He’s left me to die here.  
Betrayed.  
I’m overcome with despair and my arms begin to shake under the strain. I’m alone. There is no one left to love me. The despair is quickly replaced by anger at the thought. I push Combeferre out of my mind.  
I may be alone but I’m not going to die. I take a few steadying breath, trying to ignore the panic, and, rallied by my anger, I start pulling myself up. I move one of my hands forward and grapple to make purchase with something on the ground. My nails dig into the dirt and I keep pulling. My muscles scream under the strain and I can see the veins standing out, too prominent, beneath my skin. I’m slick with sweat. I keep pulling myself until, with a grunt of agony, I roll over onto the ground away from the edge.  
I’m distant with Combeferre once I get back from that particular simulation. I hate myself for it because I know it’s not real. Combeferre would never betray me. And yet I can’t help tensing up every time he touches me or talks to me.  
I’m over it by the end of the next day, though, when a new nightmare has taken its place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Enjolras,’ he says catching my arm in his vice like grip, ‘I’m not a coward. But… you have to see it’s hopeless.’  
> ‘It’s not hopeless, R. If we can work together in this then of course it can be done.’

My mother tells me she doesn’t love me and that she’s leaving because she can’t stand the sight of me. I watch her walk away from me, down my old street, suitcase in hand. My dad is yelling at me, telling me it’s my fault. ‘I know,’ I tell him. I turn away from her retreating figure.

I can feel the moisture on my cheeks when I wake up in the familiar simulation chair. I squeeze my eyes shut for a few more seconds before opening them to stare at the roof.

‘Enjolr-‘

‘Shut up,’ I snap, blood rushing to my cheeks. I don’t look at R as I push myself up off the chair and leave the room.

‘Enjolras,’ I hear him call my name as I hurry down the corridor. He catches my shoulder and stops me. I avoid his eyes but turn to face him with the intention of letting him say what he wants to say and then getting away.

‘It’s not real,’ he says after a pause, ‘the simulation might show your worst fear but that doesn’t mean that what you’re seeing is the truth,’

‘You don’t know anything about it,’ I reply quietly. He sighs and drops his hand from my shoulder.

‘No, I don’t. But I know you. She wouldn’t have left because of you,’ he says.

‘You only know my fears. That doesn’t mean you know _me_ ,’ I’m still avoiding his gaze.

‘Fears are very revealing, Enjolras. And I don’t just mean in general, I mean yours specifically,’ I jerk back looking him in the eye at last. ‘You’re different.’ He says quietly. I frown, uncertain of what he means. I hate that he can never seem to spit out exactly what he wants to say.

‘Do you always have to speak in riddles?’ I snap.

He lets out a startled laugh. ‘I should probably get back,’ and with that he turns and leaves. I stare after him for a moment before heading back to the dorm.

 

*

 

‘Enjy! Finally,’ cries Courfeyrac when I enter.

‘Don’t call me that,’ I say for the hundredth time as I collapse onto my bed.

‘Come on, grumpy, I’m gonna go get a tattoo and we’re all going,’ he insists before a hand grabs my arm and pulls me up. I sigh but don’t resist as Courfeyrac leads Jehan, Combeferre and me out of the dormitory.

I haven’t been to any of the tattoo places in the Dauntless faction yet but some of the other initiates have been, judging by the increasing amount of them sporting fresh ink. Courfeyrac seems to know where he’s going, however, as he leads us through the Pit and into an unfamiliar store.

The walls are lined with tattoo designs and the lighting is dark apart from the occasional pools of light directed over the tattoo stations. Two tattoo artists are already at work on a couple of Dauntless but a third artist comes through a curtain at the back of the store to greet us. I recognize her as the girl who was with R when we first arrived, ‘Ponine I think he called her.

‘More newbies,’ she says, her lips quirking into a smile, ‘pick a design or tell me what you want. Give me a yell when you’re ready.’ She vanishes back through the curtain and we’re left staring around at the walls.

‘I’m thinking I’ll get the Dauntless symbol,’ says Courfeyrac thoughtfully as he stares at a range of designs incorporating the familiar encircled Dauntless flames.

‘Original,’ Jehan says sarcastically. Courf knocks him playfully but moves away from the Dauntless flames none the less. Combeferre moves down the room to look at more designs as well and Jehan sits himself down in a corner with a blank sheet of paper and a pen, to draw his own presumably.

‘I’m free now if any of you are ready,’ says one of the tattoo artists as she wipes down the fresh ink on a Dauntless man’s arm. Courfeyrac moves forward eagerly, a design in hand. I glance it as he passes: a series of knots worked together into an intricate star shape within a circle. It’s beautiful.

‘It’s called a Celtic knot,’ the tattoo artist tells him as he sits down and lifts his shirt so that she can tattoo it onto is hip. ‘Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. That’s just what I was told by someone from Erudite once.’ Because of the intricacy of the piece it’s going to take a few hours till it’s finished so the rest of us settle in for the long haul.

 The girl from before comes through the curtains again and spots Jehan sketching carefully in the corner. She raises an eyebrow when she gets close enough to see what he’s designed.

‘Really? That’s what you want? Not very Dauntless,’ she scoffs. He looks up at her, his expression defiant.

‘I didn’t realize it had to be Dauntless. Seems to me I can ink my body with whatever I want,’ he says, his tone challenging. But she simply shrugs and leads him over to one of the chairs.

It only takes about 10 minutes for her to finish Jehan’s tattoo. He raises the bandage on his wrist to show us when its done and I see a simple lotus on a stalk done in red. It’s a strange choice since it’s a flower that once grew beyond the fence, no one has seen the real thing since… well, I guess since people lived beyond the fence. But I’m glad he didn’t go for something Dauntless. This suits him so much more.

‘Either of you getting something?’ ‘Ponine asks. Combeferre shakes his head smiling but I hesitate.

‘Actually yes,’ I find myself saying. The other two raise their eyebrows at me in surprise. I didn’t know I was going to get anything either, until about 5 seconds ago.

Apparently sick of ‘newbies’ lurking about the store, ‘Ponine shoos Combeferre and Jehan out the door before leading me over to one of the stations.

‘Ok, what do you want,’ she asks as we sit down across from each other. I point to a patch of skin just below the inside crease of my left elbow.

‘I want two thick black horizontal lines right here,’ I tell her.

‘Like an equals sign?’ she asks as she prepares the tattoo machine.

‘Exactly an equals sign,’ I reply. She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question me further.

Her hands are steady as she traces two rectangles and slowly begins to build them up and fill them in. There is slight pain but I barely even register it after the last few weeks of dealing with much worse, both real and serum induced.

I start to feel stiff sitting for so long but I’m scared to move in case I stuff it up. I realize that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast and as soon the thought comes into my head I become aware of the empty ache in my stomach. Maybe this was not the time to get a tattoo.

‘Hey, Ep, you almost done? I need a drink. Watching all these fear simulations is exhausting, I don’t know how Amar did it for us,’ it’s R’s voice followed by the man himself. He’s tossing something from hand to hand and doesn’t even look around to see where the person he’s talking to is.

‘I’m almost done here, Grantaire. Give me a couple more minutes,’ ‘Ponine replies. Well, I think her names ‘Ponine. Apparently she also goes by Ep… Damn Dauntless have too many nicknames. R spots us at the back of the room just as she starts wiping my tattoo down. He hesitates before making his way over.

‘Enjolras,’ he says nodding formally at me. I smile a little awkwardly and say ‘hey’ back. Ep looks between us for a moment as she finishes fixing the bandage in place then she gasps and turns to R with a giant smile. Before she can say a word he cuts in.

‘OK then, Eponine, I think you’re done now. Let’s go,’ he says, a hint of warning in his tone. Eponine (that better be the last of her names) starts laughing raucously but she obliges and starts packing away her stuff as she does. I look between the two of them feeling confused.

‘Ignore her she’s psycho. You can probably go,’ R tells me. I head over to where Courfeyrac seems to finally be finishing up, throwing a ‘thanks’ to Eponine over my shoulder as I go.

The tattoo artists taking care of Courfeyrac is putting the machine away when I arrive beside him.

‘Hey, you ready?’ he chirps, customary smile in place. ‘Let me see,’ Courfeyrac grabs my arm and pulls the bandage up to check out my tattoo. ‘An equals sign?’

‘Yeah,’ I reply. His grin widens in understanding and I feel a rush of affection for this unexpected, likeminded friend I’ve found. He always gets it.

‘How about yours? Let me see the finished result,’ I say as he stands. He pulls his t-shirt and coverings up so I can see where it’s branded on his hipbone. I give a low, appreciative whistle as I run a thumb gently over the tattoo. It really is an impressive and complex work of art.

We head out of the store so that they can close up and start making our way back to the dorm. Once we’re out of sight of the store, Courfeyrac gives me a light punch and crows.

‘You should have seen R’s face when you touched my tattoo. He threw me such a dirty look. I’m starting to realize just how bad he has it for you,’ I scoff and shake my head, shoving him back.

‘And I’m starting to realize just how crazy you are,’ I tell him. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks again and hope the shadowy caverns of the Dauntless compound hide it from Courfeyrac.

‘Oh please, I’ve caught him staring at you more often than I can count and let’s not even mention that little individual mentoring he gave you when we did the knife throwing. I could feel the sexual tension from across the room- and holy cow you are actually blushing right now!’

Fuck. He can see.

I roll my eyes trying to brush it off as nothing, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Courf. One thing I’ve learnt about you while we’ve been here is that you look for drama in _everything_.’

‘Enj, please. We’re partaking in _Dauntless initiation_. I don’t have to look hard,’ he scoffs. Thankfully, we reach the dorm at that point and he’s distracted by a notice on the door.

_The Dauntless leaders have finally decided to schedule Visiting Day. Tomorrow you, and more importantly I, will have the day off. Meetings with any family members who come will take place in the Pit._

_-R_

There’s an awkward silence. Visiting Day is a bit of a taboo topic since you never know whose family will actually make the trip to the Dauntless compound. I know my father wont come but no loss there.

‘A day off will be nice,’ says Jehan, appearing around the door. ‘We’re gonna go grab dinner, if you guys are ready?’

 

*

 

It’s strange having a day with no training, no fear serum, no bruises and blood. We’re all awake early out of habit and there’s some meandering as we try to figure out what to do with ourselves before visiting begins. It’s been too long since we’ve had this much free time and nothing to fill it with.

‘When do you think stage 2 ends?’ says Jehan a little blearily. It always takes him a long time to fully wake up. He’s sitting between Combeferre and Feuilly across from Courf, Joly, Bossuet and me in the dinning hall as we have breakfast. Rather, as we digest breakfast, we all finished eating about an hour ago but since we don’t know what else to do with ourselves we haven’t moved.

‘Sometime soon I hope. I think I’ve seen enough of my worst fears to last me a life time,’ mumbles Joly. He’s wired from lack of sleep, he woke up screaming during the night. Bossuet takes his hand reassuringly and Joly smiles up at him. There’s a pause in the conversation before Joly sighs, ‘I don’t think I’m going to make the cut.’

‘Joly, don’t talk like that. Who can tell what’s going to happen between now and the final stage. We need you, remember?’ Combeferre says softly.

‘I dunno, Bossuet and I have been giving this a lot of thought actually and… wouldn’t it be useful to have someone in with the Factionless? From what Feuilly’s said it doesn’t sound that bad if you can take care of yourself. And besides, I think I could be of use working for the Factionless. I have some medical training from back home that could really help,’ there’s something like a spark of excitement in his eyes as he talks. I wonder why it is he left Abnegation when it’s so clear that he derives great pleasure from being selfless. He’s been the most uplifting and cheerful presence amongst the Transfers since the beginning. It’s helped us all cope with the stress of initiation. Both him and Bossuet had joined our little band with enthusiasm and have come to share our ideals. Maybe Joly’s right, maybe they (for it will always be assumed that where Joly goes Bossuet will follow, and vice versa) are the perfect people to have on the ground when the time comes for our plans to be executed.

There’s more silence around the table as we all process what he’s said. Beside him, Bossuet smiles at Joly proudly and I wonder how long the two of them have been planning to drop this bomb on us for.

‘Guys… is this really what you want?’ Feuilly finally asks.

‘I think we’ve already decided, really. We’ve just been waiting for the right time to pitch it to the rest of you,’ laughs Bossuet.

‘Well, we better start thinking up ways to get into contact with you once we’ve split,’ I say, smiling at the both of them.

 

*

 

‘You not participating in Visiting day?’ I run into R in one of the many winding corridors. We had split up after breakfast; some of the group heading to the Pit in the hopes of a family visit and others, like me, to while away the hours in whatever way we can find.

‘Ah, no. I’m not really expecting anyone…’ I say, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. His eyes follow the movement before he takes my wrist and pulls my arm towards himself. It’s not a harsh movement but it takes me by surprise.

‘Equals?’ he asks, running two fingers over the ink on my skin. I suppress a shiver.

‘Yeah,’ it comes out little louder than a whisper. He raises a questioning eyebrow. ‘As in equality,’ I say more forcefully. He responds with a frown.

Then, after a minute of silence, ‘Your first fear. That wasn’t just an example of failure… it was the failure of that specific scenario. You actually think you can bring down the faction system,’ he doesn’t say it accusingly but it still feels accusatory.

‘Actually I do,’ I reply. He’s looking at me skeptically and I can’t help but elaborate. ‘Our faction system isn’t exactly fair or even healthy for our society. We’re not made to be split into separate groups, to divide against each other and compete at having the best quality. Not to mention we’ve thrown the Factionless out into the cold to fend for themselves, without any provisions or support. Isn’t it just a matter of time before they organize themselves and start a war? Shouldn’t we try to change the system before the system tries to stab us in the back?’ It’s been so long since I’ve had to justify my ideals to anyone but suddenly I feel like I’m back home arguing with my father once more. But R doesn’t look at me with disappointment or disdain like my father did, he looks thoughtful and a little pained.

‘Of course the faction system is fucked up. Anyone who doesn’t acknowledge that is just afraid of what living without this secure, familiar system would be like. But, Enjolras, the system’s been in place for centuries. You think it’s possible to break it? You think people haven’t tried? It’s a lost cause,’ he says it apprehensively, like he’s begging me to understand.

‘Funny,’ I sneer, ‘I didn’t expect someone from Dauntless to be so cowardly,’ his look of disbelief stays with me once I’ve turned and begun walking away.

He catches up with me only moments later. ‘Enjolras,’ he says catching my arm in his vice like grip, ‘I’m not a coward. But… you have to see it’s hopeless.’

‘It’s not hopeless, R. We can work _with_ the factionless. They outnumber us more than even they realize. If we can work together in this then of course it can be done,’ he draws back from me, looking suddenly horrified.

‘Is that why you joined Dauntless? So you could learn to fight and form your own army?’

‘No. I joined Dauntless because they’re the only faction who is widely spread around the whole city as security, not to mention that their training gives us an insight into how to defend ourselves against them,’ I reply honestly. I don’t want an army, I don’t want a war. I just want us to be able to protect ourselves in the unavoidable attack the government will unleash on us. He watches my face carefully, eyes darting from one of mine to the other, deciding whether I’m lying. It makes me wonder whether he was always Dauntless or if perhaps he was born a Candor. But then he pulls back and nods and I catch a glimpse of tattooed flames peeking out of the top of his t-shirt. No. He’s Dauntless through and through.

‘You got room in your group of revolutionaries for another?’

I blink in confusion. The silence gapes between us as I start at him, not entirely sure I heard right.

‘For…you?’ I eventually stammer.

‘Well, yeah. I mean, I may not have finished first in my initiates class but I was pretty high up so, believe it or not, I have a bit of influence with the higher ups that might prove useful for your cause,’ he rambles awkwardly, suddenly looking unsure.

‘No, I mean, yeah that- that sounds great. Um thanks,’ I manage. I feel too warm in this narrow corridor with R only inches from me, offering me his help, his loyalty. It shouldn’t be overwhelming but somehow, because it’s R, it is. I try not to think about why that is.

‘Great… well… I better go,’ he says indicating over his shoulder. I watch him walk away. He pauses at the end of the corridor and turns back to face me looking reluctant. ‘Look, I know you may not want to hear this but,’ he takes a breath, ‘Be careful. Getting through initiation is hard enough as it is. Try to just… concentrate on getting through this before you go, I dunno, starting riots in the dinning hall.’

The look of concern he gives me is so solemn that I don’t argue. I nod and he’s gone before I can say anything more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'This part of training is about mental preparation. Thinking about the fears you’ve seen over the past training session, combining it with the physical combat you learnt in stage one, and figuring out the quickest ways for you to either confront or calm yourself in the face of your fears.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today. Sorry! but next chapter will definitely make up for it in length. Thanks to anyone and everyone who's reading and has left kudos <3 you make my day.

 

A couple of days later we’re led to a new room for training. It’s fairly unimpressive: graffiti, exposed pipe, flickering lights. The best that can be said about it is that it’s huge. R begins explaining about the next stage: the ‘fear landscape’ in which we must face all our fears, this time aware that we’re in a simulation, as quickly as possible.

‘Of course when you enter this room for the landscape you’ll see it differently in the light of whatever fear you’re facing. Tomorrow you’ll be practicing the fear landscape, not with your own memories of course, wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you when it comes to facing stage 3. This part of training is about mental preparation. Thinking about the fears you’ve seen over the past training session, combining it with the physical combat you learnt in stage one, and figuring out the quickest ways for you to either confront or calm yourself in the face of your fears.’

We file out again and return to the usual simulations for the rest of the day. At dinner that night we discuss ways of facing general fears in the simulation as quickly as possible. Honestly, stage 3 sounds like a relief to me. Being aware that you’re in a simulation while you’re under seems to make things much less complicated. 

The familiar rankings chalkboard is in the dorm when we get back. Rankings for stage 1 have been replaced by new rankings. After stage 3 they’ll combine our ranking positions from all 3 stages and decide on who makes the cut. We gather around it eagerly to find our names. I’m ranked first. I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips- I honestly didn’t think I was doing _that_ well. R had been right when he predicted I’d be good at the simulation.

My smile droops a little as I read down the list. Joly’s name is at the bottom.

‘I guess the exclusive Transfers club is finally going to break up,’ says Anita mockingly, her gaze directed pointedly at Joly, before she turns and leaves the dormitory. Joly smiles at her retreating figure.

‘I guess it’s time we left,’ he says cheerily to Bossuet. I can’t tell whether the smile is a façade or if he really is happy to leave this place. By the expression on Courfeyrac’s face, however, I judge that it’s the latter (you can always trust a Candor to be able to discern lies from truths).

‘You sure you’re not going to stick around? See how well you do in stage 3?’ asks Combeferre. Joly’s shaking his head before he can finish.

‘No, I think we’re ready,’ he looks at Bossuet who nods, interlacing their fingers as he does so.

‘So you guys gonna throw us a goodbye party or what?’ Bossuet asks with a grin. Courfeyrac’s smile widens. I guess that’s a yes.

 

*

 

I’m learning not to question Courfeyrac’s methods. Especially when those methods gain me a drink in one hand and a slice of Dauntless cake on a plate in the other.

We’re the last ones left hanging out in the Pit. It’s late at night and the occasional passerby is the only other sign of life we see. The party has been a pretty casual event, since it’s just the 7 of us, but it has also been a lot of fun, something we’ve been lacking for a while now. I’m sitting beside Bossuet, Jehan on his other side, our legs dangling over the edge, the Chasm roaring in the darkness below. A bar of the lower railing is pressed against our chests, stopping us from falling forward, and the chill of the iron seeps through the thin cloth of my shirt, sapping body heat from my chest. Even so I feel warm from the drink or the delicious cake or maybe just the atmosphere, either way it’s a nice feeling.

‘You’re gonna miss us, you know?’ drawls Courfeyrac, he’s probably had a little more to drink than most of us and Combeferre’s keeping him far away from the Chasm.

‘Of course we will,’ laughs Bossuet, ‘but we’ll miss the cake more!’ he shouts to a roar of approval. I really cannot begin to describe how amazing Dauntless cake is. I take another bite and withhold a sigh of happiness as the rich sweetness fills my mouth.

I see a familiar figure making his way down one of the many paths of the Pit, heading in our direction. He swaggers into sight, eyebrows raised, a few moments later.

‘Wow, what’s everyone doin’ up so late? Working on tactics for tomorrow’s fear landscapes I should hope,’ R says as he makes his way into the ruckus of people behind me, I turn in time to see him swiping one of the drinks off the floor. We chuckle, unconcerned. It’d be a different story if it was Four who’d found us here, but R seamlessly joins the fun.

It somehow reaches him that the reason for our celebrations is to say goodbye to Joly and Bossuet. He accepts it easily once he hears their reasoning and even tells us of some ways they can get into contact with us quickly using certain surveillance cameras around the factionless areas of the city.

About 10 minutes after his arrival R sits down beside me, his back pressed against the iron bars rather than his chest. I smile at him and after a pause he returns the smile, somewhat awkwardly. We haven’t really talked much since he offered to help with the whole ‘revolutionaries thing’, as he puts it, so I guess I understand his unease.

‘Thanks for the thing about the surveillance cameras, by the way, that’s really going to make life easier,’ I say eventually.

He lifts his bottle to me with a smile, ‘Told you I could help.’ I chink my bottle against his with a smile before we both take a swig. Our eye contact lasts maybe a second too long.

‘So,’ he says looking away suddenly, ‘you think you’ll do ok tomorrow?’

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ I reply honestly, ‘I guess we’ll see. It’ll be pretty different actually knowing you’re in a simulation.’ He nods.

‘Exactly. The quicker you realize it’s not real the easier it is to get it over with. Though it’s still not precisely easy,’ he trails off unhelpfully. I guess that it’s one of those things you have to experience yourself to understand. R doesn’t seem concerned, though, as he leans his head back against the railing and takes another sip of his drink. Then again that could be because he’s not the one doing it.

‘So whose memories are we gonna be entering, if we can’t experience our own yet?’

‘That would be mine,’ he replies, taking another sip. I draw back in surprise.

‘Isn’t it a little personal?’ I ask after a moment. He looks back at me with something like disbelief.

‘You do realize I’ve been diving into all your worst fears alongside you for the past few weeks right?’ he shakes his head chuckling, ‘I get to choose which memories each of you experiences anyway, so it doesn’t have to get too personal.’ I nod, curious as to what fears R might have hidden away in his mind.

We talk amiably (well… reasonably so) for a while. It’s strange that we have anything to talk about at all, really, since we barely interact outside of training. Yet we keep up a steady stream of conversation and I can feel myself relaxing around him for once, the drink can probably take partial blame for that. Soon enough we’re brought back to reality, however.

‘Hey, you two, we’re packing it in. You ready to head back?’ Courfeyrac calls out, interrupting whatever R was about to say. We look around to find that the rest of the group is already on their feet, arms loaded with party leftovers and rubbish. We share a quick smile before climbing to our feet as well and following the others away from the Pit.

‘Well, this is me,’ says R indicating to a corridor that branches off the path to our dorm. ‘Joly, Bossuet, good luck. Hopefully we’ll see each other again,’ he says shaking each their hands in turn, ‘And the rest of you, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Good luck getting through the fear landscapes, especially with those hangovers some of you will no doubt be experiencing tomorrow,’ he catches Courfeyrac’s eye and receives a smile and shrug in return. The rest murmur their goodbyes before continuing towards their beds.

I smile and raise my hand briefly in farewell. I see his return smile before I turn and follow my friends down the corridor.

 

*

 

The next morning when we rise two more of the beds in the dorm lie empty. We knew Joly and Bossuet would be gone by the time we woke but it’s still strange to see the beds, covers made up, lying dormant across the room. There’s a feeling of finality about it. Now we have to succeed. If we don’t… Joly and Bossuet will have condemned themselves to a life of near poverty and hardship for nothing.

A hand on my shoulder followed by Combeferre’s tired voice, ‘Let’s go, Enjolras,’ wakes me from my contemplation and I follow him from the room.

R’s waiting for us outside the door to the fear landscapes room. His smile is smug as we group in front of him, yawning and bleary eyed.

‘Morning. Everyone clear headed and ready for today’s challenge? How about you, Courfeyrac? Ready?’ R asks loudly. His face crumpled into a grimace, Courfeyrac replies with a mumbled ‘fuck you’ and I notice Feuilly beside him wincing slightly at the noise. Maybe Courfeyrac wasn’t the only one to take it one drink too far last night.

‘One of my fears awaits each of you in the fear landscape today. When I went through the fear simulation I had 12 fears. The average is between 10 and 15. By tomorrow you should have found out a way to overcome every one of your own as fast as possible because you will be undergoing the final stage of initiation. But today is about experiencing the fear landscape, seeing the difference knowing that you’re in a simulation can make,’ I listen intently, allowing my mind to emerge from the fog of sleep and start functioning properly once more. I don’t know how R is so awake when he got the same amount of sleep as us. He seems downright chipper.

He assigns us each a fear of his choice before one by one we are put into the simulation. Because only R is hooked up to the simulation the rest of us can only see each the other’s reactions to whatever fear they’re facing. It’s peculiar to watch, not to mention unnerving.

‘Enjolras, you’re up,’ R says at last while Feuilly comes through the door of the fear landscape room shaking his head, no doubt trying to rid his mind of the simulation. The fear he was assigned was rejection and he had spent the first few minutes in the fear landscape curled into a ball. It was difficult to watch and I avoid R’s eyes as I enter the room and allow him to inject the serum into my neck.

The scenery around me changes instantaneously. My lower body is compressed inside rock walls. Above me I can see the vaguest hint of light but, while my arms are free, no matter how hard I pull towards it my body remains wedged in the crevasse. Panic is starting to build inside me. I can’t get out. I’m not sure how I even got here. 

It clicks suddenly. I’m in a simulation. I stop struggling immediately and start trying to focus on reality. This is a simulation. I am not stuck.

My heart keeps pounding because it feels too real. What if I’m wrong? How long have I been stuck here? Maybe I’m just delusional. I can’t just sit here. I begin tugging again but, if anything, I feel more confined.

 _‘_ This isn’t real,’I say it out loud. My voice echoes around the rock walls. I can’t slow my heart rate so the next logical step is to face the fear. I take a steadying breath. Then another. Then, sucking in a breath to make myself smaller I start pushing in the opposite direction, wriggling myself further into the rock.

‘Nice work,’ R’s voice wakes me to the fact that the simulation is over. I shake out my limbs pointlessly before following him out the room.

   It is different: going through the fear knowing it’s a simulation. But now that I know what it’s like I’m confident I can get through stage 3 quickly.

 

                                                                                 *

 

We discuss tactics for tomorrow at dinner that night to take our minds off the two empty places at our table. The initiates used to take up a large portion of the table, now the five of us fill one corner and Anita sits at the other end amongst the Dauntless born initiates. She doesn’t talk to them as they chatter around her. But then she doesn’t really talk to anyone.

Every time one of us has approached her we’ve been given the cold shoulder or snapped at till we left her alone. She seems intent on getting through this initiation alone, even though it’s clear she’s been struggling all throughout stage 2.

The Dauntless borns and us don’t communicate much either, though that’s more out of lack of common ground than dislike. If anyone, they talk to Feuilly or myself since we’ve both ranked first during the initiation stages.

I cast my eyes further afield, looking around the dinning hall at what will, hopefully, be my faction tomorrow. I recognize a few of their faces from the various workplaces in the Pit but there are few I actually know.

I recognize Four, sitting at a table with friends from his initiation year. I don’t really know him, besides receiving the occasional instruction from him, we’ve never even spoken. Eric sits further down at the same table as him. Unfortunately him I do know from the multiple confrontations I’ve been forced into having with him. The table next to theirs also contains a few initiates from their year. I recognize Bahorel and Eponine sitting side by side. R sits on Bahorel’s other side.

Bright green eyes are staring back at me as I allow my gaze to drift over to him. I blink, momentarily confused, and he gives me a slight grin before nodding his head backwards, indicating for me to come over. I frown, not sure I’m understanding his meaning properly, but he repeats the action so I have no choice but to get up from my seat and make my way over to him.

R shifts slightly, making room for me between him and Bahorel. I climb onto the bench feeling awkward,

‘Sorry,’ he says, ‘I was going to find you later to tell you but you didn’t exactly look busy.’ I nod for him to continue, ‘I was checking the surveillance cameras from today. Joly and Bossuet send their greetings, they arrived in the Factionless sector of the city early this afternoon,’ he tells me, his tone hushed so that I can barely hear it over the noise of the Dauntless.

I smile gratefully, ‘Thanks. Good to know your communication method works,’

‘You sound surprised,’ he replies with a wry smile.

‘Not at all. I’m just impressed.’ He nods and I take it as my dismissal. I make my way back over to my spot next to Courfeyrac to let the rest of the group know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dauntless initiation day wakes us the next morning with a bang.

Dauntless initiation day wakes us the next morning with a bang. The celebrations start early with drinks flowing freely. The Dauntless rush around the compound, pushing, shoving and generally acting without inhibition. None of the initiates participate; we walk around watching the festivities with wide eyes and knots in our stomachs. It’s not long before we escape back to the dormitory and wait for them to call us for stage 3.

I sit on my bed and stare at the wall as I go through all the strategies in my mind once more. I have to be able to recall and execute them quickly once I’m in the simulation since there’s no knowing whether new fears that I haven’t yet experienced will crop up or how old ones might suddenly have changed.

It’s late in the afternoon when they finally call us. My stomach feels hollow, and not just because I skipped lunch. And breakfast. The faces of my fellow initiates are grim but determined.

We gather outside the fear landscape room. The Dauntless leaders are there, as well as R and Four. The Dauntless born initiates have already had their last test and now all they have to do is wait for us transfers to have ours. Then we’ll find out the 10 who have made it. I clench my fists reflexively and stare straight ahead as we receive our instructions. We’ll be tested according to our stage 2 ranking, working backwards from last ranking to first. That means I’ll be last. I take a deep breath and steel myself for a long wait.

Only the Dauntless leaders are hooked up to the computer and can see what’s happening in the fear simulation. The rest of us watch screens showing the initiates going through the simulation. I try and guess what they’re going through by their actions but it’s largely impossible to tell. After a while I just concentrate on my own strategies again.

I can feel R’s gaze flick back to me repeatedly but I try to ignore it, I don’t want to see the worry in his expression. I’d rather not know how bad my chances are of getting in. I don’t need that distraction.

Finally, Feuilly finishes his landscape. I see him open his eyes, on the screen, and lift his head as he comes back to reality. He gives me a brief grin as he exits the fear landscape room. I try to return it but all I can manage is a twitch of the lips. Taking a deep breath, I enter the room. The serum goes in. The scene around me changes.

 

I’m alone in an open field. There is nothing for miles. Dark, angry looking clouds are churning in the sky, heading towards me. I can see the distant flashes of lightning and the thunder that follows. I wince at every flash and feel pinpricks of panic travel through me at each grumble. I start to run away. I stumble once, twice, but I keep running. The storm is above me in a matter of minutes anyway. Lightning strikes the ground around me. Flames leap into the air where dry grass is struck. It feels like it’s aiming at me. How could that be?

And suddenly I remember that I’m in the simulation. I scream in frustration, I’ve wasted too much time not realizing that, before I turn and run towards the storm. Running towards the eye of the storm. I’m almost struck multiple times, my hair stands on end as the electricity crackles through the air around me. Suddenly it’s calm. I’ve found the eye.

 

My friends are lined up against a wall and there is a gun in my hand. An unfamiliar woman tells me to shoot them. I refuse. She threatens to shoot me. I panic for a moment and that feeling of déjà vu runs through me as I look at the execution line up before me. _This isn’t real_ I realize. I’m momentarily distracted by the additional presence of R amongst my friends before I turn the gun on myself and pull the trigger.

 

I’m in a wooden box, locked in darkness as dirt beats down on top of me. I’m being buried alive. I’m running out of air. I’m gasping for breath, _the air is running out_ \- But not really because _this isn’t real_. I force myself to calm my breathing. I can feel my heart rate slowly returning to normal.

 

I’m bound, hand and foot, and blind folded. Strange, unseen creatures wind themselves around my body. I realize that I’m in the simulation almost immediately. My heartbeat slows.

 

I’m in the fight circle. I’m panting and aching. The fight has been long. A girl I don’t know is lying before me; her face bloody, her limbs sticking out at odd angles. Have I done this?

‘Finish her,’ Eric tells me.

‘What?’ I choke out, my head whipping up to look at him.

‘Finish her or you can’t become one of us,’ I’m shaking my head before he finishes. How could he? I _need_ to become Dauntless. But I can’t kill her. I don’t even know her.

My hand curls into a fist and I look down at her. I have to. I can stop wrongs like this but I need to become Dauntless in order to do that. Surely, for the sake of the many?... One can be sacrificed…. No.

_This isn’t real_.

My first trembles as I raise it. I drop my arm, slamming my palm into the ground beside her.

‘No,’ I growl. ‘No’ I repeat as I get to my feet and leave the training room.

 

A man is held at gunpoint as people walk past, ignoring the situation completely. I break through the circle of guards and take the bullet before it hits him.

 

My mother walks out the door, suitcase in hand. I turn away from her retreating figure. I know this is my fault, it’s almost too easy to face this fear.

 

I hang onto the rock ledge over the chasm. Combeferre walks away from me laughing. The real Combeferre would never do that. This isn’t real. ‘You’re not real,’ I yell after him before letting go of the ledge.

 

The plan has failed. The Dauntless security forces have come for me and I scramble to the top of the barricade to meet them.

‘I told you it could never work, Enjolras,’ my dad says. I smile at him as they shoot me.

 

*

 

I open my eyes. It’s over. The Dauntless leaders smile at me and Max steps forward, ‘Welcome to Dauntless, Enjolras.’ I smile in return and shake everyone’s hand before leaving the room.

R’s face is the first one I see when I pull the door closed behind me. He grins at me from across the room as Courfeyrac bounds towards me and envelops me in a crushing hug.  All five of us have passed initiation. There’s a round of hugs before Jehan starts shouting about food and drinks and (terrifyingly) dancing. A hand grips my shoulder briefly as I follow my friends away from the fear landscape room and I hear R murmur ‘Nice one,’ before he walks away, towards where Four is standing.

We eat too much Dauntless cake at dinner and the roaring din of the Dauntless seems impossibly louder tonight as they- we- celebrate the initiation. Countless strangers congratulate us and there’s an overwhelming feeling of camaraderie around us. I just hope it’s a feeling that can exist outside of Faction constraints.

But no. I’m not thinking about that tonight. Combeferre has told me in no uncertain terms that for tonight and tomorrow I should just relax. So I’m doing just that by eating too much cake and shaking hands with a lot of people I don’t know. I spy R amongst the crowds a few times but don’t get a chance to talk to him. I don’t know why but I feel like I need to talk to him. To thank him? I don’t know.

Somehow we end up tucked away in a booth at a bar with the Dauntless born initiates who got through. I’ve never seen this place before. It’s tucked deep into a corner of the Pit, draped in shadows, it requires crossing a narrow rock path to get to the entrance. I try not to wonder how many drunken Dauntless haven’t been able to stagger the whole way across at the end of a long night.

Drinks travel in and out of my hand and I don’t know how many I’ve had, I just know I’m not drunk yet. Buzzed might be a closer description. Getting to know the Dauntless born initiates (though that name doesn’t really apply anymore) feels easy in this atmosphere of celebration and they seem to accept us wholeheartedly now that they know we’re sticking around. The girl who volunteered to climb the Ferris wheel during capture the flag, Azelma I think her name is, complains about the lack of females who have gotten through and I realize that we never got to say goodbye to Anita. Not that she would have wanted us to. Still, I’ve gotten used to her chilly presence and now we don’t even know where she’s gone. Maybe Joly and Bossuet will find her.

‘Enj, I think it’s your turn to get drinks,’ says Courfeyrac, slapping me on the back. He’s swaying slightly in his seat and his eyes are so wide and bright that I wonder if he hasn’t had enough. We have to get back across that narrow pathway at some point… But his smile is so imploring that I roll my eyes and slide out of the booth.

‘Yay!’ shouts Jehan as I get up, another one who’s well on his way to a shocking hangover tomorrow, ‘Shots! Get us some shots, Enj,’ he drawls before getting distracted by something Feuilly’s saying. I shake my head as I walk away but I can’t help the smile on my lips.

The crowd that presses in on me as I make my way to the bar is disorientating and I’m being knocked about, unable to steady myself. Finally I reach the stable wooden surface of the bar. The woman behind it has a pierced lip and eyebrow and a brightly coloured tattoo of a train winds its way around her neck. She’s looking at me expectantly and I falter for a moment, trying to remember what I’m here for.

‘Shots,’ I get out eventually, shaking my head in an attempt to dispel the dizziness, ‘Ten shots. Please.’ She quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything as she starts setting the glasses up on a tray.

I turn to look back at the table where my friends are sitting, resting my arms up against the bar behind me. The air is thick with the sour smell of alcohol and the music is loud, we didn’t have anything like this in Erudite. There’s probably nothing like this in _any_ of the other factions. It’s liberating.

There’s a yell as a fight starts up not too far from me. People move hastily away from the brawl and I’m knocked sideways by someone. Hands grab my arms to steady me.

‘Sorry, I was pushed,’ says a familiar voice genially, ‘Oh hey, Enjolras,’

‘It’s ok. Hey, R,’ I reply as I right myself again. I glance over at the fight. The lady from behind the bar has moved to grab one of the fighters and is currently dragging him, with surprising strength, to the door.

‘Haven’t seen you in here before. You still out celebrating?’ Grantaire asks, squinting at me in the dimness as he leans against the bar.

I indicate to the half poured shots and shrug, ‘I guess so. The other’s are,’ I look around the room trying to remember where we were sitting, maybe I’m a little more drunk than I thought, ‘somewhere here,’ I say waving to the room in general. He laughs and it’s a nice sound.

‘Well,’ R says as he picks up one of the shots glasses with liquid in it, ‘to you,’ he holds it out for me to chink. I pick another full one up and tap it against his glass. We drain the contents at the same time.

He waves towards himself as he starts making his way away from the bar, ‘Come on. I’ll introduce you to some friends.’ I follow, focusing as carefully as I can on following his black t-shirt in the sea of black clothing. We arrive at another booth and R sweeps an arm around at the people sitting there, ‘This is Bahorel, Eponine, Montparnasse, Zeke and Four. Guys, this is Enjolras. One of the newbies.’ Although I already know most of them we exchange greetings anyway.

Bahorel has an arm slung casually around Eponine’s shoulder as he whispers something in her ear, making her smile. Montparnasse sneaks furtive, jealous glances at them. Four sits chatting quietly with Zeke. It seems a strange group, oddly disjointed.

‘Did you get drinks, ‘Taire?’ Eponine asks before either of us can take a seat.

‘Ah, shit. I knew I was up there for a reason,’ he grumbles. His hand on my back ushers me back to the bar with him. The bar tender still hasn’t returned but I notice that the rest of the filled shots have been emptied.

‘So your friends seem… cool,’ I say eventually. He barks out a short laugh.

‘There weren’t any free tables so we had to join Four and Zeke. Montparnasse just kind of latched on. If it seemed weird that’s probably why.’ I nod and there’s another lull in the conversation. I wonder if I should leave but he doesn’t seem to be trying to get rid of me. He taps his fingers against the bar and sneaks looks at me occasionally. It should make me feel uncomfortable but somehow it doesn’t.

‘I assumed, when I was at the tattoo place, that you and Eponine were together,’ I don’t know what makes me say it, maybe the lack of conversation, I don’t know.

‘Nah. Her and Bahorel have been together since before our initiation. I had someone for a while but he ended up transferring,’ he replies. His words stir something in my chest, though I don’t know why. Well… actually I do. My body knows things my mind is refusing to acknowledge. I attempt to force my drink-addled mind to behave- he’s single and likes guys, so what? Unsure of how to reply I simply nod. He’s watching me carefully now and I’m glad the darkened room hides the colour that rises to my cheeks. I can’t pretend I don’t notice his stare so I meet his gaze, confused. He grins suddenly and gives his head a shake.

‘Sorry, I’m a little drunk. You’re really pretty in this light,’ R says as his eyes break away from mine. He seems to suddenly notice what he said, ‘Wait. No. I mean, you’re always pretty, I just… I’m drunk,’ he finishes lamely. I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of me.

‘So you’ve said,’ I reply. He’s hiding his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. ‘No, it’s fine,’ I laugh as I pull his hands away, ‘that was… nice of you to say.’ He looks up tentatively and groans.

‘I probably shouldn’t be hitting on one of my initiates,’

‘Well, I’m not one of your initiates anymore,’ I reply, only realizing too late that it sounds like an invitation. Maybe it is. R raises his eyebrows and grins, opening his mouth to respond. Courfeyrac appears out of nowhere.

‘Didn’t we send you to get us drinks like hours ago?’ he says, not even noticing R as he pushes between us.

‘Not quite hours ago,’ I reply as I watch him inspect the empty shot glasses. I trade an amused look with Grantaire. ‘I think it’s probably time for you to pack it in anyway, Courf,’ I say, taking a glass from his hand and putting it back on the bar.      

‘Whaaaaat? No! Come now, Enjy, the night is still young!’ he cries with a dramatic look of anguish on his face.

‘Actually, it’s more like the morning is still young,’ says R causing Courf to finally notice him.

He gasps, ‘Oh my gosh, it’s R! Enjolras, look R’s here,’ he flaps his hand vaguely in my direction, as if to get my attention. I catch his hand before he can slap me in the face and it lower to his side.

  ‘Yeah I know, Courf. I was just talking to him.’ Courfeyrac looks between the two of us, his smile suddenly smug.

‘Oooh. We’re you guys having another one of your private chats? Don’t let me interfere,’ he turns (twirls would probably be a more accurate description) to leave us, pausing for a moment to remember which direction to take. His head turns back and forth as he contemplates his surroundings.

‘I feel downright sober next to him,’ says R watching Courfeyrac with amusement. I roll my eyes before grabbing the drunkard’s arm.

‘I should probably take him back to the dorm,’ I say reluctantly.

‘Are you sure you still remember where that is?’ R says as he helps fight our way through the crowd.

‘I’m not _that_ drunk. I don’t think,’ I laugh. We manage to find the booth where the rest of our friends are seated. Combeferre is talking animatedly with Feuilly, both of them gesturing wildly, and Jehan is dozing against his shoulder. The Dauntless borns have either already left or they’re around the bar somewhere, they’re not really my problem though.

‘Come on, guys. Time for bed,’ I say once we’ve reached the table. They look round at me blearily but seem sober enough (well, less drunk than Courf) to follow my instructions and start heading towards the door. It feels like I’m herding sheep.

We manage to get across the narrow pathway and into the main area of the Pit without any mishaps. We stumble our way back towards the dorm, and if I forget where I’m going at one point no one notices as R steers us in the right direction. When we make it back I watch the others fall into their beds from the doorway.

‘Thanks, R,’ I say, suppressing a yawn as I ruffle a hand through my hair. I’m suddenly feeling exhausted.

‘No problem,’ he says before taking my arm and pulling me away from the doorway into the shadows of the corridor. ‘I was just wondering, can we meet up tomorrow?’ his words come out in a jumble, taking me by surprised.

‘Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m not really sure what happens to us tomorrow?’

‘Nothing, you get a day off,’ he replies.

‘Cool. Then yeah, I’d like that,’ my hand’s in my hair again, nervously rumpling my curls, as I reply. I stop as soon as I notice.

He gives me a pleased half smile. ‘I’ll find you tomorrow then. Oh and congratulations again,’ he says before giving me a quick hug and then walking away. I stand stunned, goose bumps raised on my arms from the unexpected warmth of his skin, my lips twitch up into a small smile and I head back into the dorm to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may slow down a bit unfortunately since it's my brother's wedding on the weekend and I have a heap of uni work to catch up on after that :( I have about two chapters written and just in need of editing before I run out completely though.  
> Thanks for reading <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I’ve slept half the day away when I wake up the next morning. As I crack my eyes open I’m suddenly glad that we’re below ground where the sunlight can’t reach me. My head is pounding, I feel dirty and badly in need of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is good news and bad news. Bad news is that I've officially caught up with myself and I only have a page and a half of the next chapter written up. The good news is that it's mid semester break from uni next week so I'll hopefully have more time to work on this.

I feel like I’ve slept half the day away when I wake up the next morning. As I crack my eyes open I’m suddenly glad that we’re below ground where the sunlight can’t reach me. My head is pounding, I feel dirty and badly in need of water. I peek through the dimness at the room around me, the others are still breathing deeply, fully clothed and sprawled out across their beds.

Rubbing my eyes vigorously, I gulp down two glasses of water from the jug on my bedside table and get to my feet. I stumble around in the darkness searching for fresh clothes and, once I’ve found what I hope is a shirt and a pair of pants, I head to the shower.

The others are just reaching consciousness when I return, fresh and clean, my head still aching.

‘Afternoon,’ I say. I receive only grunts in reply. Stopping only to grab a water bottle and some sunglasses, I leave them to it. I need to clear my head, which means fresh air and sunlight no matter how much it will hurt.

I make my way through the Pit where the usual crowd of children and adults are going about their business in a flurry of loud laughter and quick movement. I slip around and between them easily, squinting against the light streaming in through the glass roof. Finally I reach the surface.

Fresh, biting wind whips around me, tugging on my hair and clothes. I close my eyes against the unforgiving sunlight and push the sunglasses onto my face as I stand for a moment, appreciating the open air. I feel better already. I make my away across a few roof tops before sitting myself down, legs dangling over the edge, my body stretched out on the warmed concrete, arms folded behind my head.

I spend a long time like this, dozing off a few times in the warmth of the sun. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so relaxed. Not sure I’ve ever been able to feel so relaxed.

I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been lying here when a shadow casts itself over me. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. R stands above me, lips quirked into a slight smirk, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

‘Comfortable?’ he asks before sitting himself down beside me. I sit up feeling the effects of the sun more now that I have to actually open my eyes.

‘I was,’ I mumble in reply, only half serious.

‘I’m not sure how long you’re planning to stay up here but they have housing assignments going on down there. You might want to put your name down for something before all the decent places are gone,’ he says, his elbow brushing unintentionally against my arm as he shifts into a comfortable position.

‘I hadn’t even considered that we’d have to choose housing,’ I reply after a momentary pause. ‘To be honest, though, Courfeyrac has probably already arranged everything so that we’re all neighbors or something. I have nothing to worry about.’

‘Sounds to me like that’s definitely something to worry about,’ he jokes, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. I laugh, realizing that that’s probably true- I might go back down to find that we’re all living together in a one-room apartment.

‘Can you live alone when you first enter Dauntless?’ I ask out of curiosity.

‘Sure, if we have the available space. I’ve lived alone since I got through initiation,’ R replies.

‘Where _do_ you live?’ I can’t help asking. He looks round at me, smiling.

‘I don’t know if it’s possible to give directions around the Dauntless compound. I’d have to show you.’

‘Are you just trying to get me back to your room,’ I tease before my brain can catch up. What am I saying? I don’t have the excuse of being drunk anymore.

‘I think you invited yourself,’ he replies, not missing a beat. I smile and look away feeling suddenly awkward. ‘Are you blushing right now? Wow, that’s so cute,’ he laughs, probably causing me to blush an even deeper red.

‘Har har,’ I reply sarcastically, ‘I might have to push you off this roof now.’

‘Yeah sure, you could try,’ he leans back, propped up by his arms, completely at ease. ‘My little protégé, I haven’t yet taught you enough to be able to defeat me.’ I just roll my eyes before mumbling something about him not really teaching me anything. But that just makes him laugh more. The heat is never going to leave my cheeks if he keeps laughing like that.

We fall silent for a moment and I lower myself to lie back on the ground. R follows and I can feel the heat of his body lined up against the full length of mine.

‘You figured out what kind of job you’d like yet, E? You’ll be picking them tomorrow,’ he breaks the silence.

‘Combeferre has forbidden me to talk or even think about all that until I’m ‘appropriately rested’,’ I say, using my fingers to make the air quotations. ‘Did you just call me E? You Dauntless and your nicknames. Don’t you ever miss hearing your actual name?’

He chuckles quietly from beside me, ‘I don’t control what people call me. That’s entirely up to them and, as long as they’re not using it to piss me off, I don’t mind,’ he attempts a shrug despite lying down.

‘So I could call you Grantaire?’ I feel him shift slightly beside me but when I check his expression the lazy half smile is still in place.

‘Sure you can, Enjy.’

‘Don’t even go there,’ I warn, only half joking as I elbow him lightly. If everyone starts calling me ‘Enjy’ Courfeyrac will never hear the end of it from me. Grantaire moves beside me and I realize he’s getting to his feet.

‘You going somewhere?’ I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.

‘You are too,’ he replies, turning around and holding out his hand. I glance at it for a half second before slipping my hand into his and letting him pull me to my feet. I stumble slightly, my foot slipping off the roof’s edge, and he catches me before I can fall. I collide with his chest.

R pulls me away from himself slightly, his hands keeping a painfully tight grip on my upper arms. He stares at me, his expression both frightened and relieved.

‘Fuck, E, are you ok?’ he chokes out. I find myself unable to reply for a moment as I stare at his intense expression. He seems to notice because he rearranges his features immediately and a lightly sardonic smile is thrown onto his face. The grip on my arms loosens and he leans back with a slight chuckle, ‘We almost lost our fearless leader.’

I’m confused by his sudden change and the sarcasm in his tone immediately puts me on the defensive.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, shrugging out of his grip, ‘I probably wouldn’t even have fallen.’ I walk away not caring whether he follows or not. The scuff of his shoes on the concrete roof follows me non-the-less. His hand touches my shoulder but I shake it off and keep walking.

‘Come on, Enjolras, you were definitely gonna fall. Geez what’s with the mood swing?’ R grabs my arm this time and I jerk to a halt.

‘ _My_ mood swing? Forget it,’ I try to pull away but he just tightens his grip. The stupid amused smile’s still on his face and I look away, choosing to cast my eyes around at the empty roofs instead.

‘Settle down will you? You get angry so easily,’ his tone still forcibly casual.

‘That coming from a Dauntless,’ I snap back.

He barks out a harsh laugh. ‘Wow, I didn’t expect the poster boy for equality to use such factional stereotyping.’ Finally I manage to yank my arm from his grip, anger burning under the surface of my skin.

‘ _Poster boy for equality?_ Is that you trying to put me into a box, _Grantaire_?’

‘Don’t call me that when you’re angry. And no, I wouldn’t dare try put you in a box since I find you so fucking hard to understand,’ his nonchalant façade has slipped now, his eyebrows sitting low over his eyes as he snaps back at me. I’m too furious to realize how scary it is to see someone who’s usually so easy going get angry. I want to throw his own words back into his face. He’s the one who’s confusing and unpredictable, so disagreeable and strangely intriguing. Instead what comes out of my mouth is infinitely worse.

‘Well I wouldn’t dare put you in a box since we both know how terrifying tight spaces are for you.’ I see the hurt and surprise flash across his face before it’s replaces by stony hatred. He turns without another word, strides across the rooftop and jumps from the edge into the waiting net in the Dauntless compound below.

I stare at the place where he vanished for a few minutes, successfully replacing my guilt with anger. It’s a low blow to bring up his fear simulation but maybe he deserves it.

 

*

 

But when I follow him into the compound an hour later I’m feeling cold and uncomfortable. I’m not even sure why I got quite so angry in the first place.

 

*

 

My housing has in fact been organized for me, as I discover when I get down to the compound and run into my friends amongst the maze of paths in the Pit. I follow them to our living quarters, my mind barely even registering the turns and twists we take in order to get there.

I’m housed with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, our front door just down the hall from Jehan and Feuilly’s place. It’s simple and small but that’s really all we need. Combeferre and Courf have rooms next to each other whilst mine is next to the bathroom, across the other side of the house. Between our rooms is the open-plan, combined kitchen and living area. Jehan and Feuilly’s house is slightly smaller, with two rooms rather than three, but otherwise follows the same layout as our place.

It’s furnished with the bare minimum and, since we only have those few possessions we’ve picked up whilst going through initiation and the second hand Dauntless clothing we were given when we first arrived, we aren’t able to contribute much to the apartment to make it more ‘homely’ (as Courfeyrac put it). We’re given a small amount of money, enough to start us up in our new faction, which should last us until we begin making money from our chosen jobs.

We spend the time till dinner making our way through the shops in the Pit to purchase clothing and other necessities for our new lives. Combeferre shoots me looks of concern every now and then, though I’m trying my hardest to keep up a happy front. Which is difficult when my conscience won’t leave me alone, won’t let me push the guilt to the back of my mind.

I don’t see Grantaire at dinner that night though I only let my eyes skim the room quickly, unwilling to make eye contact if he is there. I walk as slowly as I can back to our new lodgings because Combeferre’s giving me that look that means we’re going to have a ‘conversation’. I don’t want to talk about it. Which is the lie I’ve been telling myself all afternoon.

‘Hurry up, Enj,’ laughs Courfeyrac as he bounds down one of the narrow paths with Jehan hot on his heels, Combeferre and Feuilly following close behind them. I sigh and take one last look at the stars scattered throughout the midnight blue sky before we leave the Pit and its glass roof behind.

We all end up sprawled around our living room, Courf waltzing around to put up the more decorative purchases he’d made.

‘Ok, Enjolras, spit it out,’ Combeferre finally says, interrupting the jovial relaxed mood. He has his ‘don’t argue just talk’ look on that I hate and I know I won’t be able to escape until I’ve told him what’s wrong.

‘It’s nothing really,’ I sigh, ‘I just got into an argument with R and… may have crossed a line.’

‘And now you’re feeling guilty? Enjolras, what did you say?’ Combeferre asks with a long-suffering sigh as Courfeyrac collapses onto the couch next to him. Jehan worms a comforting arm around my shoulders but I wish he wouldn’t. He’s going to realize soon enough how little comfort I actually deserve.

I fidget uncomfortably for a moment, avoiding their gazes as I mumble my reply, ‘I may have… ridiculed one of his fears from the fear landscape.’ My words are met with a silence that drags on for a torturous, immeasurable amount of time before Feuilly breaks it.

‘What the actual _fuck_ , Enjolras.’ I wince at the disgust in his tone. Jehan’s grip on me has slackened slightly and I can’t bear to look up. Saying it out loud has made it impossibly worse.

Before anyone can say another word there’s a harsh knock on the door.

‘Let me in, blondie, or I swear I’ll knock this door down,’ I recognize Eponine’s voice. She sounds pissed and I’m suddenly feeling fearful. It’s Combeferre who eventually gets up to open the door before it’s removed from its hinges. ‘Fucking finally,’ she practically growls before shoving her way into the room.

The glint in her eyes is deadly as she comes towards me. ‘You,’ this time she does actually growl, ‘I would fucking punch you right now except he’d see the bruises and get angry at me-‘

‘I know I fucked up, Eponine, I’m sorry. I promise I’m going to apologise as soon as possible,’ I say, my voice sounds strained.

‘I don’t want you to apologise to him. I want you to stay the fuck away from R or I _will_ kick your ass-‘

‘Eponine.’ There’s an intake of breath as his voice snaps through the open door. He doesn’t look at me as he enters the room and grabs Eponine’s arm, his expression impassive. ‘Enough. Let’s go,’ R says in the same commanding tone as he begins to tug her towards the door.

I’m on my feet before I can think twice, ‘Grantaire. Can we talk?’ He doesn’t even look at me as he continues dragging Eponine away.

‘Not tonight, Enjolras, I don’t want to hear it.’ The door shuts loudly behind them and we’re left in silence once more.

My hands curl into fists at my sides and I feel anger start to creep back into me. If he won’t even talk to me how am I supposed to apologise? My legs are carrying me towards the door before I can even think.

‘Enjolras,’ Combeferre’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, unyielding. ‘Leave him alone. You both need to cool off. You can go find him tomorrow.’ I’m about to argue. No, I’m not even about to argue. I’m about to ignore them all completely and go after R anyway but then Jehan speaks up.

‘Enough. Go to bed, Enjolras, Combeferre’s right.’ His input makes me pause. If I ignore the advice of someone whose faction has seemingly perfected the art of conflict resolution then I’m definitely digging myself into an even bigger hole. My shoulder’s slump and Combeferre removes his hand. Jehan steps forward to give me a brief, undeserved, hug before I leave them all in favour of the new found solitude of my room.

I don’t bother turning the light on before I let myself fall down onto the single bed. I savor the darkness that envelops me as thoughts run riot through my brain. The anger is still bubbling away under the surface of calm that Combeferre and Jehan’s words have created. If he won’t listen to me how is R ever going to expect to receive an apology? How does he expect us to work this out? Does he even want us to work this out?

I roll onto my side to stare at the bare wall instead, bags of new possessions lined up against it. I can’t believe it was only a few hours ago that I was lying in the sun besides Grantaire enjoying, what promised to be, the best day I would have had since leaving Erudite. I’m still not sure what went wrong.

The memory of that mocking smile floats at the surface of my mind and I feel my irritation rear its head. It’s the same feeling that I get every time I see it on his face. Back when we were in our first stage of initiation it was there, tugging at his lips as he observed our efforts. When I snapped at him about underestimating me in my fight against Feuilly that same smile was on his face. And it had even made a couple of appearances while we’d talked at Bossuet and Joly’s goodbye party, I’d felt the irritation at it then as well. And yet somehow we’d managed to recover from our arguments that night and still part on good terms. It’s like a mask for him to hide behind. But I’m not sure from what. Or maybe I’m just kidding myself; maybe he actually is a contemptuous asshole.

I must drift off at some point because the next thing I’m aware of is slowly emerging from the fog of unconsciousness into the pitch darkness of my room. It’s impossible to tell the time below ground so I stumble out of bed to turn the light on and check my watch. 5:00am. I groan and rub a hand roughly over my face. At least I wont bump into Eponine, Bahorel or R at breakfast at this hour. That is if breakfast is even served yet.

I kill some time by putting away my measly supply of possessions: clothes, a lamp, books and a bedside alarm clock. I grab clothes at random from the wardrobe and head to our tiny bathroom to shower.

By the time I’ve emerged in a dark maroon t-shirt and black jeans and pulled on some shoes it’s only just past 5:30. My stomach rumbles and I realize I haven’t properly eaten since the initiation celebration dinner. Another sigh escapes me as I head out to breakfast.

I don’t spend long eating, though I build up an appetite trying to find my way to the dining hall from our new place. Taking one of the fresh rolls, I watch the butter melt into the warm bread before devouring it hungrily. I follow it down with some fruit. There are a more Dauntless trickling into the room now so I grab one of the delicious smelling bran muffins and make my escape.

The Pit is mostly empty, only workers leaving for the early shift or coming back from night shifts trudge up and down the narrow pathways. The shops are closed and the roar of water rushing below us is louder without the voices and footsteps of Dauntless to overpower it. Thin rays of early morning sunlight refract off the glass ceiling illuminating the entire place in a soft orange glow. It’s refreshing, seeing the Pit like this, and I feel eased by the peace and the gentle light. That is before I see Grantaire sitting with his back leaning against the chasm fence, his eyes on me.

I hesitate only for a moment before squaring my shoulders and making my way over to him. His eyes follow my progress over the top of the bottle he’s holding to his lips. As I draw closer I can see the redness of his eyes and the dark circles beneath them- he looks completely worn out.

‘Hey,’ I say once I reach him. R doesn’t reply and, after a moment of standing over him uncertainly, I sit myself down beside him at, what I hope is, a respectful distance. The eyes don’t leave me but I can’t meet his stare. ‘Look, Grantaire, I really _am_ sorry for what I said. I crossed the line and I didn’t mean to insinuate that your fear was in anyway lesser or weaker than anyone else’s. I just… sometimes I don’t even think before I speak. You’re just so confusing and I don’t know how to talk to you when you decide to suddenly start ridiculing me but…I know that doesn’t excuse me for what I did. I was a complete dick and we we’re having such a good time before I fucked it up. Please don’t say I’ve fucked our friendship up as well. And I _know_ I don’t deserve forgiveness but, for what it’s worth, I am truly, truly sorry, R.’ I hold my breath waiting for him to reply. His expression hasn’t changed once, he’s still staring at me with that impassive, deadened look. Then his lips twitch and curl up into that sarcastic smile, harsher and angrier than I’ve seen it before.

‘That was a really beautiful little speech, Enjolras. Really. Too bad there weren’t more people around to hear it, maybe they would have clapped,’ his tone is dripping with sarcasm and he finally breaks eye contact to take a sip from his bottle, his actions clearly dismissive. I bite back words that I know I’ll regret as I rise quickly to my feet. I glare at him as the blood boils beneath my skin.

‘Go to hell, Grantaire,’ I snarl before turning on my heel and walking away. I make my way through the Pit blindly, rage propelling me forward, till I find myself at the door to my apartment. I slam the door behind me and sink to the ground, head in my hands.

‘What the fu- Enjolras? What is going on?’ Courfeyrac comes flying out his room, still bleary eyed from sleep. Combeferre too is standing sleepily in his doorway looking for the source of the sound that woke him. I look away from them in favour of staring at the ground. A moment passes and suddenly they’re each sitting on either side of me. It’s not long before they’ve coaxed the whole story out of me.

They listen in silence and when I finish there is no immediate response. I’m not sure whether I should be expecting a scolding for not giving R enough time to cool off or consoling because I tried and I was still rejected. I’m not sure which I want let alone which one I deserve.

‘That was really harsh of him. I mean you were a dick to him but that sounds like it was a pretty heartfelt apology… and he just threw it back in your face…’ it’s Courfeyrac who eventually breaks the silence. Out the corner of my eye I see Combeferre nod but other than that he doesn’t offer any comment.

I wait for him to speak up knowing he will have all the answers, the right advice to tell me how to fix this. Since we first became friends Combeferre has always been my voice of reason when it comes to dealing with and knowing how to relate to people. He grew up in a family with four younger sisters, suffice to say he’s good at connecting with others, as opposed to the disappointing single child I was. So to have him stay silent now, when I need that logical yet empathic mind, is both irksome and frustrating. I try patience for as long as I can, giving Combeferre the time he seems to need to formulate one of his grand fix-all suggestions.

But nothing seems forthcoming.

‘So what do I do?’ I eventually blurt out, hating the desperation in my voice. He finally looks up at me, a sad, apologetic smile on his lips and shrugs one of his shoulders.

‘I don’t think there’s anything you _can_ do. It’s up to him to decide where you both go from here, anything further you do will probably just make him more upset.’

I groan, letting my head fall back into my hands; that’s exactly what I was afraid of. The fact that Combeferre, who knows how difficult it is for me _not_ to act, said it means there really is nothing I can do. I feel Courf’s arm snake around my shoulder but otherwise we sit in silence.

A knock at the door interrupts us and we climb to our feet, moving away from the door as Jehan and Feuilly let themselves in.

‘Oh, good you’re all awake. Wanna go grab some food?’ Jehan asks, pulling a jacket on as he walks into our little living room. There’s a general murmur of agreement before Courfeyrac and Combeferre go off to dress and get ready. Jehan talks about how weird it is sleeping in a room alone again to the room at large as he lounges around on a sofa. I chat to him, trying to sound like I’m cheerful while he and Feuilly pretend to believe it.

I walk with them part of the way to the dining hall before waving them on. ‘I’ve eaten,’ I say to a concerned looking Jehan, ‘I’m just going to go work off some energy in the training room but I’ll see you guys later.’ I give them a slight wave before heading down a separate corridor. It’s a relief when none of them comes after me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) Kudos and comments ALWAYS appreciated of course <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel my heart flutter in my chest but otherwise the week or more of revisiting this fear in the simulation has made me used to bigger storms than this. I can almost appreciate the majesty of it. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly later than usual but I got there in the end. Please enjoy.

I never dreamt I’d be the kind of person who has to work out their frustrations with a gun. And yet here I am, firing bullet after bullet at the targets lined up against the wall. It doesn’t even feel like a challenge anymore and I’m wishing that the Dauntless had looked into getting moving targets when I become aware of having an audience.

‘You do realize there’s multiple, better equipped training rooms for actual Dauntless members, right?’ Bahorel says good naturedly, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. I lower the gun to my side feeling cautious, not because I think he’ll hurt me but because he doesn’t seem the type to start ripping into me like Eponine and I’m not sure how else he’ll act towards me in light of the whole situation between me and R. When I don’t make any response he sighs, ‘He’ll get over it you know. Grantaire. He’s got a thick skin usually; it just hurt more coming from you.’ A moment of uncomfortable silence settles over us at his statement.

‘Right. Well, are you gonna show me these better equipped training rooms?’ I ask as I replace the gun in my hand onto the weapons tray. Bahorel looks relieved at the change of topic and indicates for me to follow him.

The Dauntless training rooms are much more impressive than the ones we were in all throughout initiation. The training room that Bahorel takes me to is huge, sectioned into various activities. Punching bags, fight rings, knife throwing range, knife fighting ring, weights in various forms and sizes and a running track that loops itself around the whole room. Indicating to a door across the room, Bahorel tells me that the shooting range is equipped with a vast array of guns in different sizes and ammo as well as, to my delight, the option of moving targets. I decide to save that for another time and instead join Bahorel in one of the fighting rings.

He’s much better than the initiates I’ve been fighting so far- understandably so. I’m not even sure how I decide that getting into the ring with this hulking, muscled guy is a good idea but something about his friendly smile convinces me that he won’t completely pulverize me. And he doesn’t. I end up learning quite a lot of him, way more than I ever learnt from R anyway.

‘You’re not half bad for a newbie,’ he says, elbowing me lightly as I slip out of the ring behind him, aching and slightly bruised. There’s nothing patronizing in his tone and this morning has warmed me to him quite a bit. He’s huge and intimidating and yet he is the most cheerful and kind Dauntless I’ve come across. It baffles me to think that he’s friends with R and Eponine. They strike me as opposites; Eponine with her cold, unapproachable personality and R with his bitter, dry humour compared to Bahorel’s warmth and easy smiles. Maybe that’s not entirely fair, after all I’ve been in plenty of situations in which I’ve seen a cheerier side of R and there is a certain warmth to the passion with which Eponine defends her friends. Bahorel is just simpler, it’s refreshing.

‘Shit, you’re supposed to be picking jobs today,’ Bahorel says, clapping a hand to his head, ‘You should probably get to the dinning hall, they usually give the lists out towards the end of breakfast.’ I nod my appreciation before leaving him at the door to the training centre and hurrying down to the dining hall.

My friends are all still there when I arrive. They’re perusing papers and chatting seriously amongst themselves. Feuilly is the first to spot me and he waves me over, picking up a blue folder from the table and holding it out to me as I approach. I take it from his hand and see my name typed neatly in the top right corner.

‘They’re your job choices. Everyone has a different list of possibilities according the rank they achieved in initiation. As the first ranking initiate I’m guessing you have some pretty good picks in there,’ Feuilly says with a smile, indicating to the folder I’ve just taken from him. When I open the folder I realize it’s filled with individual information packets for each job option. I flick through quickly and select the options that seem best for me before opening them up to read through in more depth.

I must only have been sitting there for about 10 minutes when Four comes over to our table. He looks harried, glancing around the hall angrily.

‘R should be here to take them from you but I haven’t seen him since yesterday so you’ll have to give them to me instead. You guys all done?’ he says, holding a hand out expectantly. Jehan, Feuilly and Combeferre place their chosen job packets into his outstretched hand but Courfeyrac hesitates.

‘Why is there an initiates trainer position available?’ he asks, clutching the information packet uncertainly. Four turns his gaze on Courf who, to his credit, no longer looks even the slightest bit intimidated by it.

‘Lauren, the woman who usually trains the Dauntless born initiates has decided to stay in her job in tech maintenance and R was only ever filling in. He doesn’t want to train another batch of initiates and I can’t train both groups. You interested?’

‘I think I am,’ Courfeyrac replies with a smile as he hands over the job packet. It earns a small smile from his new colleague. Four turns to me next and I hand over my job packet without hesitation. He looks down at my choice and I see a flicker of surprise cross his face.

I wonder how much the trainers talk to each other, and the Dauntless leaders, about the initiates. Do they have specific characteristics they look for in the simulations and training that points towards certain careers? Maybe they try to steer the new members towards the jobs that Dauntless feels they will contribute most to. I’m not sure but I do know that the surprise on Four’s face indicates that my choice was not the one I was expected to choose. Perhaps R had suggested I’d want to train for a leadership position (not that there are any open, but training is provided for certain members in case something unfortunate were to happen to one of the five current leaders) because he thinks I want to be in a position of influence. He doesn’t know me very well if that’s the case.

Once Four has instructed us to find him at lunch so that he can direct us to the location of our job orientations he leaves. We file out of the dinning hall and head back to our place, spreading ourselves out around the living area once more.

‘I thought only the top 5 were given job choices,’ says Courfeyrac as he flops down onto one of the couches beside Jehan. Feuilly and Combeferre squish onto the other one and I settle myself on the floor.

‘I got to choose from a variety of different patrolling jobs. Maybe we all get choices but the choices for the bottom 5 are more limited?’ says Jehan with a shrug, ‘I went for Factionless sector patrols, I figured it’d be a useful place for me. Plus I saw Feuilly had decided to lead that group.’ Feuilly laughs as Jehan gives him a mock salute. I had seen ‘Patrol Leader’ amongst my job packets as well but I’m glad Feuilly took it- it’s the perfect position for him and, teamed with Jehan, they could definitely do something about the Dauntless guards’ treatment of the Factionless.

‘I’m not sure about that,’ says Combeferre with a slight frown, ‘I was ranked 6 and I still got a few extra job options that weren’t guard duty. I wonder if perhaps R-‘ he glances surreptitiously at me when he says the name, as if worried at my reaction, ‘recommended us for certain jobs because he knows what we’re trying to achieve.’ His words are met with a thoughtful silence. I would sincerely like to believe that’s true and yet I don’t know whether R takes us seriously enough to go out of his way like that for us.

‘So what did you choose?’ I ask Combeferre. He looks around at me, expression indifferent.

‘I’m training to be in the Med Bay,’ he says matter of factly, though his slight smile betrays him. He’s wanted this job since we found out about it during our research in Erudite. The only way he would truly feel comfortable amongst the ferocity of Dauntless would be in doing something that was the opposite. Working in the Med Bay had seemed like the perfect compromise and I know he would have been disappointed in thinking he wouldn’t get the choice with his ranking. I can’t help the grin that I feel stretch across my face as I lean over and clap a hand on his shoulder.

‘That’s fantastic. Congratulations ‘Ferre,’ I say as his lips twitch up into a full smile. I don’t remove my hand from his shoulder when Courfeyrac pipes up.

‘So what did you choose?’ he asks, looking at me.

‘I’m working in the intelligence sector,’ I reply. The others smile at me, no flickers of surprise here, amongst those who know me, and Combeferre grips my arm in return. Like him, I’ve managed to get the job I was aiming towards.

‘So this is it,’ says Jehan quietly, looking around at us with a strangely intense expression, ‘This is where the real work begins: getting rid of the Factions.’ 

 

*

 

The next day we part ways, each heading to his own job. The control room I was led to during yesterday’s orientation is in a section of Dauntless that I’ve never been in before, which is unsurprising seeing how many paths wind their way through this compound. I sigh with relief when the doors slide open on the fourth floor to reveal the familiar entrance to the control room and I realize that I have not lost my way, as initially thought.

The orientation yesterday had been an absolute breeze for me after growing up in Erudite. Their operating systems are up to date, though, and that’s refreshing. I guess I didn’t expect a faction who so relishes danger to be that concerned with how out of date their security systems are. When I enter the room I’m greeted by my new supervisor and shown to a computer that I guess will now be my own. I’m given a set of locations and times to watch security camera footage for and a few brief instructions on what I should be looking out for: faction disloyalty, law breaking, opinions of the Dauntless members on specific issues. It feels invasive but I’m glad to see that they don’t enter individual homes or invade too far into personal lives. It really is mostly just general observation and security.

I spend a few hours going through the footage assigned to me and testing the waters, deciding how easy it will be for me to look at specific locations- Dauntless leaders’ offices for example. The supervisor prowls the room occasionally but otherwise seems to have her own work to be doing and spends most of her time at her desk. I do a quick check to see whether their system tracks what the control room workers look at on their computers but it all looks pretty clear. All of that research I did into overriding security trackers for nothing.

Eventually I decide that I’ve spent too long checking the system and that I should really get more work done before my supervisor starts wondering what’s taking me so long. Nothing out of the ordinary jumps out at me as I flick through the footage and it doesn’t take me long to finish the list. She frowns when she notices me approaching and raises a questioning eyebrow, taking her headset off.

‘I’ve finished the first lot of locations that you’ve given me. Just wanting to pick up the next lot,’ I say, waving a hand towards my computer by way of explanation. She looks puzzled for a moment before a knowing smile crosses her face.

‘Erudite. Right. I forgot how much faster you guys are than other members when they first start. I have a meeting to go to in 10 minutes so I don’t have time to compile another set of work for you,’ she thinks for a moment, chewing her lip thoughtfully, before shrugging, ‘I guess you can just take the rest of the day off.’

I blink in surprise ‘O-okay. Thanks…’ She turns back to her computer in an obvious dismissal so I make my way out of the control room and back into the elevator.

I’m let out into the Pit just as a deep rumble reverberates through the compound. I glance around in alarm but the Dauntless around me are going about their business as usual. When I catch sight of the sky through the glass window above I realize why.

Rivulets of water track their way down the glass as more drops pound around and on top of them, echoing a soft drum beat around the cavernous space. The sky beyond is churning with purple and grey clouds and as I watch a bolt of lightning cracks the sky in half and the room around me is enveloped, for a split second, in white light. I feel my heart flutter in my chest but otherwise the week or more of revisiting this fear in the simulation has made me used to bigger storms than this. I can almost appreciate the majesty of it. Almost.

At a loss of what else to do with my free time while all my friends are at their first day of work I make my way over to the Chasm and sit myself down, my back against the railing. I have a good view of the glass ceiling from here and I feel my heartbeat calm completely as I stare at the rain continue to lash against the window.

The sound of shoes hitting concrete approaches me and, before I’ve had the chance to look around at who it is, they’ve sat themselves down beside me. But I’ve guessed who it is before he speaks.

‘So… shouldn’t you be at work learning the ropes or something?’ R asks, trying and failing to sound casual. I can feel the caution in his tone.

‘Supervisor let me out early,’ I reply, unsure of what else to say. He makes an ‘ah’ sound and then falls silent. It’s awkward to say the least. We watch the rain and I sneak a sidelong glance at him just as a flash of lightning illuminates his face. Dark under eye circles, jaw covered in shadow, hair matted. His knuckles are coloured with the familiar bruises obtained from a few session with a punching bag. I look away, back up at the sky, as the thunder rolls through.

‘Wait. Are you ok?’ he suddenly says, sitting up in concern before seeming to catch himself and leaning back in another attempt at casualness, ‘I mean with…the storm and all…’ he waves his hands towards the glass roof by way of explanation.

I can’t help the short laugh that escapes me. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m in here, after all,’ I try to keep my tone casual because I am ok. It’s the thought of how pathetic I feel, knowing he’s seen that particular fear, that’s getting to me more than any sense of fear.

My frustration must show on my face because R sighs, ‘Hey, look I know this is awkward but I come bearing a white flag. I’m sorry for being a dick when you were trying to apologise. I think we should just start over,’ he says, avoiding my gaze. I’m taken aback for a moment wondering how I’d earned this olive branch when I had been so thoroughly rejected just yesterday.

‘I think we already have too much history to start over,’ I begin and I can see the myriad of emotions that cross his face before he can set his mask again, ‘but we could just agree to forget about the last two days. Never speak of it again?’ He exhales with relief and nods, a slight smile tugging on his lips. I grin in earnest and extend a hand, which drags a familiar laugh from him. He shakes my hand with mock formality.

A fresh bolt of lightning flashes and my head reflexively jerks towards the glass ceiling. R doesn’t comment on the reaction but his hand, still clutching mine, tightens comfortingly. But, as well as comforting, it also makes embarrassment creep over me. I pull my hand out of his grip and slip it into my hair instead, letting my head fall back against the railing with a slight laugh.

‘This is so pathetic. _I’m_ so pathetic,’ I groan, hoping that acknowledging it out loud will somehow make me look less like a small child.

‘It’s not pathetic. If there’s one thing Dauntless know a lot about it’s fear. And we all know that many fears aren’t rational or logical. It’s just feeling. Not exactly a pleasant one either…’ he shrugs with an understanding smile, ‘I guess that’s why we try so hard to get rid of them. Fear is unpleasant, irrational and unknown.’ He falls silent for a moment and looks back up at the rain still hitting its steady rhythm against the glass. ‘That’s one thing I don’t like about the Dauntless way of dealing with fear. Instead of looking at the cause of the problem and trying to figure out why it makes them scared they try to overcome the fear by facing it again and again. It’s like a doctor stopping the symptoms rather than diagnosing the disease.’ He continues to watch the rain as he talks, his mind seemingly elsewhere, and I wonder what he’s discovered within himself by delving too deeply into his fears. I don’t ask, though I’m itching to.

I wonder about this fear. Water, electricity and deep rumbling sound. Why is something so simple so terrifying to me? No answers come to mind. Instead I push myself to my feetand, eyes staring straight ahead, away from the churning scene overhead, I make my way towards the roof exit.

‘Enjolras?’ I hear Grantaire call out before his footsteps begin following me.

I’m drenched within seconds of leaving the Dauntless compound. I stand still waiting for the lightning, the thunder. The rain isn’t what scares me. R has joined me on the roof by the time lightning finally strikes again. I see the jagged light flash across the sky, branding itself on the insides of my eyelids. I feel my heart rate pick up, familiar after the week of revisiting this feeling again and again. The thunder that follows comes so soon after that it’s almost enough to make me tremble. I feel the sharp crack vibrate through my whole body, concentrated somewhere deep within my chest. It’s not an altogether unpleasant sensation but the blind panic that accompanies it is. The lightning is too close.

‘E?’ Grantaire’s voice is tentative. I don’t reply, worried that the simple movement of opening my mouth will make my resolve crumble and I’ll escape back into the safety of my underground home. ‘Hey, come on this is better than your simulation. Just try to relax.’ I follow his instructions forcing my jaw to unclench and my shoulders to loosen. I can feel myself calming down and I barely flinch as the next flash of lightning blinds me momentarily. But when the thunder follows only seconds later I feel the panicked fluttering in my chest return.

‘Alrighty then, that’s coming on pretty fast so I think it’s time to pack it in for today,’ Grantaire says with forced gentleness for my benefit. But just as he’s speaking I hear the familiar sound of the train approaching.

My feet have started moving before my mind can catch up. I’m leaping across the roofs towards the tracks, water splashing at my jeans each time my shoes slap the wet concrete.

‘What the fu- _Enjolras_!’ R’s voice reaches me from behind.

My timing is perfect and I don’t have to adjust my speed or direction as one of the train cars opens before me just in time for me to jump. I collide with the back wall, droplets of water spraying out around me. R joins me a few seconds later, swinging himself in by the handle. We both stand catching our breath for a moment, I can feel R’s eyes trained on my face.

‘What the fuck, Enjolras?’ he manages between breaths, ‘Taking this whole Dauntless thing a bit too seriously, aren’t you?’

‘You didn’t have to follow me,’ I reply sternly as I stand in the doorway with the world rushing past me, a blur of grey and purple and flashes of bright white. I hear R laugh quietly before joining me, his hand not even going up to grasp the handle as he sways with the movement of the train.

‘How many factionless are out there in this right now?’ I murmur as my eyes attempt to catch detail in the blur flying past.

‘Well actually there are any number of wreckages they could hide out in,’ he says before catching sight of my expression, ‘but I get your point,’ he amends quickly.

Another bolt of lightning strikes not far from the train and I’m not the only one who jumps. R grabs the handle, obviously not trusting himself when random flashes can catch him unawares.

‘So, I’m hoping you’ve already thought of this because you’re Erudite and all but if the train gets hit by lightning it just gets conducted into the ground or something, right?’ he says uncertainly. I manage a smile.

‘Yes, we’re perfectly safe here,’ I reply, only realizing once I’ve said them out loud the truth of my own words. We’re completely safe in this carriage; it’s not even difficult for me. I tighten my grip on the handle and let the top half of my body swing out of the car. My eyes close automatically.

Rain douses me afresh and there’s a drop to the ground below that could kill me if my grip slips. Yet that’s not what makes me nervous. I lift my hand into the air, letting the raindrops hit against my palm, and force it to stay there each time lightning strikes and thunder cracks. Slowly my heartbeat begins to settle and I open my eyes. When I feel the arm clutching the handle tire I pull myself back inside.

Grantaire is right behind me when I turn and I pull back slightly in surprise.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask frowning. His brows are slightly lowered as well, his eyes watching me carefully.

‘Making sure I could catch you in time,’ he replies, no hint of teasing.

‘Well... thanks, I guess.’ He backs up a little, allowing me to leave the doorway, and smiles at my reply. I head to the back of the car and sit down, my back leaning against the wall. Grantaire joins me. ‘So how long, exactly, does it take for the train to get back to Dauntless?’ I ask after a few minutes of silence. Grantaire laughs, loudly and genuinely.

‘I’ll let you know when we’re close.’

 

*

 

The storm has passed by the time we get back to the Dauntless compound and sunset has replaced the grey clouds. Grantaire and I part ways to change into dry clothes and I can’t help watching him walk away through the crowds in the Pit, damp shirt still clinging to the muscled contours of his back.

None of my friends seem to be back from work when I get home. I change quickly and run a towel through my hair before checking the time and deciding to just head to dinner.

I grab food and head to a table, feeling strangely alone in this room full of Dauntless. I’ve been sitting for about 5 minutes when R settles himself down across from me.

‘You’re looking kinda lost over here without the others,’ he says as he gathers food onto his fork. I swallow my mouthful and shrug.

‘It seems their work days go on for quite a bit longer than mine did.’

‘That’s usually the way it is on first days, depending on where you’re working. Jehan and Feuilly would have probably boarded the train from the factionless sector of the city after it dropped us off here, might be another hour or so, since the train travels slower at night. Combeferre will probably be in the med centre for a few more hours, they cram a lot of training into the two years it takes to become a medic, and Courfeyrac has to go through the ropes for his job as Initiate Trainer as well as the job he’s chosen in the off season,’ Grantaire explains between bites of food. I don’t remember Courfeyrac choosing another job for when there is no initiation and if he has to choose it today, as well as train for it, who knows how long he’ll be. I sigh internally not knowing what I’ll do with my evening until Feuilly and Jehan get back.

I spot Bahorel across the room and he grins when our eyes meet. Eponine beside him is staring daggers, her gaze shifting between Grantaire and me. I hastily look away, staring down at my food instead.

‘So what do you do? You know, when you’re not training initiates,’ I ask, pushing my mostly empty tray away. I wonder how I don’t know this yet, though there’s actually not much I _do_ know about Grantaire. He’s cynical, sarcastic, infuriating and yet he seems to understand and click with me and the other transfers easily and even, however vaguely, seems keen to help us. I know nothing about him or his background and yet I trust him. Maybe I should start finding out.

Grantaire pushes his fork through his food idly and shrugs. ‘You know the tattoo place you got inked at? Eponine and I own it.’ Whatever I expected that wasn’t it. ‘I somehow ended up designing her first tattoo and ever since then she’s had it in her head that we need to go into business together, thinks my designs have something the million and one other tattoo places don’t. Anyway, I didn’t really feel like patrolling for the rest of my days and she’s quite a talent at the whole business side of things so it just kinda happened.’ I take a moment to process this. Surprisingly, I can see it. I can see Grantaire lounging out on a couch, notepad in hand, designing the Celtic knot Courfeyrac has tattooed on his hip, black charcoal smudged around his finger tips.

My eyes go to the ink that covers his left arm. I wonder how many of those he created himself. I want to take his arm and pull it closer to study each one carefully, there are just too many to see clearly at a distance. Instead I look back up at him, catching those familiar green eyes watching me.

‘Can I see them? Your designs?’ I ask, trying not to sound as eager as I feel. Grantaire watches me for a moment before pushing his tray away.

‘They’re not that exciting but why not,’ he gets to his feet and I follow him out of the dinning hall.

Rather than heading to the store in the Pit, like I thought we would, Grantaire starts leading me up one of the many staircases and down an unfamiliar corridor. Up another staircase and down more corridors, before we arrive at an unmarked door tucked into a secluded corner.

‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ Grantaire says, a little uncertainly, as he pulls the door open for me. I walk in and wait in the dimness till Grantaire turns the lights on. It’s a small one-room unit, a single door leading to, what I assume, is the bathroom. The kitchen consists of one wall with a fridge, an oven, a sink and some bench space, the lounge takes up the rest of the room with a double bed tucked into the corner beside a window.

‘You have a window,’ I say, trying not to immediately cringe at the obviousness of that statement. ‘I didn’t know any of the Dauntless living areas were above ground,’ I explain.

‘Yeah, they’re not usually but I asked if I could find something with some natural light after initiation and they were obliging enough,’ he shrugs, slipping a hand into his hair awkwardly as I continue my inspection of his house. When I turn away from the window the opposite wall immediately catches my attention.

It’s completely covered in sketches. Not just tattoo designs but actual sketches: I recognize the train, slightly blurred as it passes Dauntless, Eponine glaring into the Chasm, the Pit alive with activity, even a scene I recognize as part of the Abnegation sector of the city. I barely register that I’ve started moving until I’m standing right in front of the wall.

‘Incredible,’ I whisper. I hear a snort from behind me and turn to find Grantaire sitting back on a couch, watching me. ‘They are,’ I insist as I move over to sit beside him, unable to tear my gaze away from the wall.

‘Thanks, I guess. It’s really not a big deal,’ he says and I swear I can see the slightest hint of a blush in his cheeks. I want to laugh at the oddness of someone like Grantaire blushing but I don’t want him to take it the wrong way. Instead I shake my head and turn back to the drawings.

‘Eponine’s right. None of the other tattoo shops have designs anywhere near as good as _this_ ,’

‘I’m not so sure. Dauntless are quite happy to just get a few flames, nothing too intricate. I don’t know how many of them would actually be into my stuff,’ he says. I see his point; though I can’t help thinking Dauntless would choose any design that showed off their loyalty and bravery. The Dauntless flames are the best they’ve got but I’m sure Grantaire could think up something even better in that unpredictable mind of his.

‘I think they’ll change their minds when they see more of your stuff,’ I reply simply. He shrugs slightly in submission, humoring me in order to drop the conversation. I oblige, knowing nothing I say right at this moment will convince him of his own talent.

There’s a moment of silence and I drop my gaze, aware suddenly of how close I’m sitting to him. My eyes catch on his arm again and this time, without thinking, I do pull his arm towards me. I let my eyes roam over the mass of images, trying to understand the stories behind them, turning his arm gently this way and that to see more, my fingers tracing lightly over the lines that somehow link it all together. I can feel his eyes on me but he makes no move to stop me as I continue to make my way up the inked trail on his arm. My hair tickles against my forehead and I realize I’m close enough to him to feel his breathing. I look up and his eyes are on mine. A sound of surprise escapes my lips, like a gasp, at the proximity. He moves forward slowly but hesitates before his lips can touch mine, suddenly uncertain. I cover the rest of the distance, pressing my lips against his.

Any hesitation on his part quickly vanishes as he moves his lips more firmly against mine, slipping a hand around the back of my neck to bring me closer. I melt into him, feeling the fabric of his t-shirt clutched tightly between the fingers of one hand while the other tangles in the curls of his hair.

We don’t say anything when we finally break apart. I can see my smile mirrored on his lips and steal another kiss before letting my forehead rest against his. This, at least, is simple in Dauntless. No words of explanation are needed, no declarations of intentions or logical explanations. Just impulses and reactions.

We trade kisses back and forth and talk idly as rain patters against the window. It’s hours before I make my way back home. The others are already in bed, judging by the soft breathing I can hear from outside their rooms. I steal quietly back to my own room and collapse onto the bed, a smile still pulling at my lips.


End file.
